Made to be Ruled
by JolieFolie
Summary: Loki surprises a young woman and asserts his dominance over her. He insists she was made to be ruled. Loki/OCs. Rated M for Lemons, PWP, and BDSM!
1. Room Service

**A/N: This is my first Loki fic. I have titled it Made to be Ruled, but it could be very well named Why I Would Go To Jail If I Met Tom Hiddleston.**

**If you want to get right to the dirty stuff in this chapter, skip to the section after the line break. (The first section of this chapter is to introduce the OC). ****Have fun!**

Made to be Ruled

_Chapter I: Room Service_

Jane was at a movie theatre with her best friend Candace, whom everybody called Candy. They were exiting the theatre after watching the very first showing of Thor: The Dark World. Jane and Candy had decided to make an extravagant experience of it, arranging a hotel room and everything.

Two young women amidst the flowing river of people, Candy twisted a strand of her long brown hair around her finger and secured eye contact with Jane. Candy's eyelids lowered a little, and Jane wondered what was on her mind.

Still giddy from the movie, Jane asked, "So, what did you think?"

Candy cast a sideways glance in the other direction before locking eyes with Jane again. Candy started walking a little closer to Jane, as if she were creating an aura of confidentiality between them. "If I got my hands on that man," Candy began in a low voice. "I would suck him dry and swallow everything he had to give to me."

Jane's eyes widened, so startled that she jumped a little, her blonde, shoulder-length curls bouncing slightly. "You – you mean Loki?"

A white grin spread across Candy's face. "Duh. Don't you think he's hot?"

Jane felt her cheeks burn. After seeing the first Thor movie and then Avengers, she had trouble admitting to herself her attraction to Loki, thinking it was abnormal to like a slender, pale man when so many muscular specimens littered the silver screen. As a woman, Jane always felt an obligation to crush on the brawny heroes, the obvious do-gooders. "I guess so. I mean, I had no idea he was so popular. I thought I was in the minority."

Candy laughed loudly, her eyes sparkling. Jane noticed a couple guys look over at Candy, clearly intrigued by Candy's vivaciousness. Although they were best friends, Jane had always envied Candy's extroverted tendencies. Jane, on the other hand, was more of a wallflower, often wishing she had the guts to do the outrageous things that Candy did naturally.

Candy put her right arm around Jane's shoulders, a mother hen taking a protégé under her wing. "Janey Janey, you have absolutely no idea, do you?" As they walked, Candy scanned the crowd, then pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Candy continued talking to Jane as she fixed her eyes upon the cell phone screen. "Hey, are you coming out later with everyone? We are totally getting drunk tonight. No designated drivers allowed. We're taking cabs."

Jane smiled. Jane had always been introverted, and often grew tired after excessive social contact. She loved people, of course, but after spending the entire day with friends and then in the jam-packed movie theatre, Jane was looking forward to a hot bath and a glass of wine in her hotel room. "I don't know, I was kind of hoping to just relax back at the hotel. Order room service." Jane added quickly, trying to make her plans sound more glamorous.

Candy smirked. "Boo, you whore," she said, and her face erupted in her charming smile again.

Jane felt another twinge of envy as she noticed a cute guy checking out Candy. Jane wished she had the power over men that Candy had. The last time Jane had a date was more than a year ago, and it had been with a guy in her university Calculus class. He had stopped texting her back, mysteriously, leaving Jane to wonder what the hell was wrong with herself.

As Candy began texting on her cell, Jane's thoughts wandered off. _I wonder if there's a guy out there who really wants me?_

* * *

Later that night, back at the hotel room, Jane had waved goodbye to a dolled-up Candy and immediately headed to the washroom to draw a bath for herself. As the water ran, Jane padded back out to the main area of their hotel room, headed for the telephone to order a bottle of white wine and a chocolate sundae from room service.

A low, raspy voice answered, distracting Jane for a brief moment.

"Yes, I'd like to place an order for room service," Jane began, and then listed her desires. After the voice on the other end assured her that her food would be brought up immediately, Jane politely ended the call. As she placed the phone back into its cradle, she had a brief thought about how sexy the voice on the other end had sounded. _What is he doing, working for a hotel? He could easily be working for a radio station, or…_

Jane lost her train of thought as she slipped out of her jeans and t-shirt and into the warm bath. The sweet smell of vanilla wafted from the iridescent bubbles covering the surface of the water. Before the water reached the lip of the tub, Jane turned off the faucet, then lay back to relax.

Just as her mind began to tiptoe across the line of unconsciousness, a knock came at the door, jolting Jane out her reverie. Jane jumped out of the bathtub. The lower ends of her blonde curls, darkened with bath oils and water, clung to her shoulders. "Coming!" she called out, realizing she didn't have time to get dressed. Instead, she grabbed a white cotton towel and wrapped it around herself tightly. At first she felt self-conscious about answering the door in just a towel, but then she thought, _What would Candy do?_ _Besides, I'm sure that poor room service guy has seen worse._

Neglecting to check the peep-hole in the door, Jane turned the door knob and flung the door open, wanting to hasten the ordeal so she could get back to her bath. "Sorry, I was just taking a bath," she heard herself apologizing instinctively, holding her towel close against her as she stepped back, allowing the man to enter the room. She kept her eyes glued to the ground as he entered; only bringing her head up when his back was facing her.

First, she craned her neck to see whether the man had remembered to include the extra can of whipped cream she ordered for her large chocolate sundae. _Thank God Candy isn't here to see me pig out._ Jane had a voracious sweet tooth to which she surrendered only when no one was around to judge her.

After she was satisfied that her order was correctly assembled on the tray, she began to check out the man. His back still turned to Jane, she scanned his black pants and black dress shirt, which clothed a tall, lean frame. His hair was straight and shoulder-length, and so black it seemed to swallow the soft light cast from the bedside lamps. As he set the tray down on her bed, Jane noticed his elegant, long fingers and the flawless skin of his hands. She felt her breath catch in her throat. "So," she said, channelling all her energy into sounding nonchalant. "What do I owe you?"

The man chuckled softly at first, and Jane was about to repeat herself when suddenly, in a flash, the man disappeared and reappeared directly in front of her, his height overwhelming. Before Jane had a chance to react, the man clasped a cool, pale hand over her mouth and said, "You owe me your servitude."

Pure shock rendered Jane's body motionless. Her wide eyes stared up into a pair of dazzlingly beautiful green irises. Her legs almost gave way as the man's identity dawned upon her.

"I am Loki, Prince of Aasgard," he said, pressing his groin against her belly button. "And you, foolish mortal, were made to be ruled."

Jane felt her heart beat so violently she thought it would burst. Adrenaline coursed through her veins.

Loki kept Jane pinned to the wall, maneuvering his leather-clad foot to kick the door shut. His hand still firmly in place over the young woman's mouth, he warned, "If you utter but one scream, I will obliterate this entire building."

Jane nodded as best she could. Loki's hands flew away from her mouth and neck and down to her waist. With one deft move, he flipped Jane around so she was facing the wall. Then he reapplied his firm grip to each of her wrists, his long fingers being more than enough to trap her thin wrists.

Jane felt soft lips brush against her left ear. "If you wish to survive this ordeal," Loki said, his voice fluid but his words sharp. "You will obey my orders."

Jane nodded, her brain scrambling to make sense of what was happening. When she realized that her first instinct had not been to find a way to escape but, instead, to comply with Loki's instructions, she felt a cold sweat break out over her skin. She barely had a chance to question her own sanity, when Loki abruptly began steering her over to the bed, angling her so that her stomach was pressed against the top of the mattress and her knees were on the ground.

"Is this not your natural state?" Loki said. His hands roamed to the bottom hem of Jane's towel. Jane tried to free her hands but realized they were still bound together. Loki had cast some sort of spell to keep them glued behind her back, leaving his hands free to take other actions.

Loki crouched down, using his knees to spread Jane's feet apart. He slipped his right thigh between Jane's legs, increasing the distance between her knees. Jane felt an incredibly hard bulge press against her left buttock. She squeezed her eyes shut, the right side of her face buried in the duvet of the bed. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up instinctively, and then tried hastily to conceal her expression.

Loki laughed. "You are enjoying this, aren't you, you mortal slave." Self-satisfaction dripped from his words like warm chocolate.

Before Jane could decide if his question had been rhetorical, she felt a pair of cool hands slip up the bottom of her towel, grazing the front of her thighs and then quickly shooting up towards her chest, the towel hiking up along the way. Her torso still pressed firmly down on the bed, Loki wedged his hands between the towel and the soft skin of her breasts, grabbing ample handfuls and squeezing.

Loki's nose trailed down the nape of her neck, the ends of his hair tickling her shoulders. Loki inhaled slowly, catching the remnants of Jane's vanilla bath. Eyes closed, he said, "You are exactly what I need tonight, you sweet piece of ass."

Loki swiftly ripped the towel out from beneath her. Loki wound the towel around and around itself, then whipped Jane's ass once with the tip of the towel. Jane winced slightly, which brought further satisfaction to Loki. He admired the red mark he had caused to bloom on Jane's ass for only a second, before grabbing her shoulders and yanking her back onto her feet. He pressed his mouth against Jane's ear. "Undress your Master," he commanded, flipping Jane around to face him and undoing the binding on her wrists.

Jane separated her wrists with a gasp, relishing the freedom.

That is, until Loki snickered and added, "You don't think I'd make it that easy for you, now do you?"

Jane looked down at her wrists in front of her, which had been cuffed tightly together again, with only a few inches of metal chain between them. A tiny axis in which to operate.

"Now get to work," Loki said, straightening his back. Jane's eyes immediately trailed down his neck, to the buttons of his black shirt. Balancing on her toes to match his height, she reached her trembling hands up to the top button against his throat.

Loki was pleased with the speed at which she undid each of the buttons. _No one can resist me, _he thought, his pupils dilating at the sight of Jane's breasts pushed together by her arms.

It took only a few moments before Jane revealed Loki's chest and abdomen. Jane was close enough to see the little hairs between Loki's pectoral muscles, the subtle definition of his abdomen, the two pelvic bones leading down into his pants. Jane ran her tongue against her lips, her hands grasping Loki's belt buckle.

The buckle was more complicated than it appeared to be. As Jane fumbled for half a second, Loki's patience wore out. "Not fast enough, I'm afraid," he said, pushing Jane's fumbling hands away and undoing the belt buckle with his own slender hands. With a whoosh, he whipped the black leather belt out from the belt loops and wielded it expertly. "If you don't know what's coming next," he said, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Then I'm afraid I can't help you."

With his free hand, Loki flipped Jane onto the bed onto her stomach. Jane's cuffed hands were pressed between her thighs against the soft bed cover. Jane heard the belt whip through the air before landing smartly onto her ass. Jane felt the corners of her mouth turn up again, but this time she did not bother to hide it.

Loki sucked in his breath, becoming more aroused at seeing his young slave enjoy herself. "You crave subjugation," Loki purred. "But I will make you cry before the night is through."

Loki snapped the whip against Jane's back, precisely and expertly, until he heard a whimper escape from Jane's throat. He smirked. It had only taken three cracks of his belt to produce a reaction from her.

"Your hide is tough, but your will," he said, "Your will is weak. You will take what I have to give you, and you will beg for more."

Jane felt Loki fasten his belt around her neck, leaving just enough room for her to breathe. With one hand on his makeshift leash and one hand on Jane's stomach, Loki pulled Jane up on her feet again and flipped her around to face him. "Answer me."

"Yes, Master," Jane whispered, her eyes squeezed shut.

Loki grinned at Jane's recognition of his authority. Jane's eyes fluttered open and she saw this beautiful smile for only a second before Loki resumed his stern face. Jane gazed up at his eyes as her hands flew to the fly of his pants, undoing the button, her hands already cupped and ready to receive him in all his glory.

Jane wound her fingers around the length of him, watching his eyes slide shut with pleasure, his head leaning back, exposing the delicate Adam's apple of his neck. Squeezing with both her hands, Jane pressed her wet mouth around Loki's right nipple. Her tongue escaped to taste him. He was fresh, sweet, and delicious.

A low moan emanated from deep inside Loki. His pants fell to the floor in a puddle.

Suddenly, Loki's head snapped back up. He quickly assumed his dominant role in the encounter, scolding himself for letting go for just a moment. He was about to open his mouth to speak, when Jane interrupted him.

"My ice cream is melting," she said, looking up at him with a sly smile and innocent eyes. The feminine notes of her voice sent more blood coursing to Loki's organ.

Loki raised one dark eyebrow at Jane. She bent over, plucking the peeled banana from its spot inside the ice cream bowl. Loki sat down on the bed and pulled Jane down so that her bare ass was sitting directly on top of his organ.

White ice cream dripped from the banana as Jane brought it slowly to her mouth. Loki kept his eyes fixed on hers, his mouth parting slightly as he watched her lips begin to receive the banana. The banana was larger than average and he wondered just how accommodating Jane's mouth would turn out to be.

Loki began to speak, "You are absolutely –"

Jane quickly smashed the soft banana into Loki's mouth, giggling hysterically at her own impulsivity. Overcome with laughter, she fell back onto the bed.

Loki spat the banana out onto the floor, shocked for only a millisecond. He watched Jane's breasts bounce with her every laugh. "Oh, you have no idea what punishment awaits you now, you silly girl."

Loki tried to keep his mouth stern, but the crinkles at the edges of his eyes betrayed his smile. Jane sat back up and sucked the remnants of yellow banana from the corners of Loki's lips. Loki's hands reached up to grasp her jaw. He watched her swallow the last little piece of banana before saying, "For your benefit, I hope that did not sate your appetite."

Loki put his hands on Jane's shoulders and slid her down so that she was kneeling before him, her mouth mere inches from his thighs. Jane's jaw dropped, marvelling at how truly perfect and swollen his organ was, especially in this proximity.

Jane recalled what Candy had said earlier. _If I got my hands on that man, I would suck him dry and swallow everything he had to give me._ Jane stifled a laugh, thinking about how she was going to get to wrap her mouth around the most spectacular part of the God of Mischief. Jane licked her lips, suddenly ravenous.

Loki examined the expression on Jane's face and realized that she was all too eager to please him. "My sweet slave, you quiver with desire at the sight of your Master's glory." He kept his voice deep and calm. The young woman's warm breath curled around his organ and he had to close his eyes for a moment to maintain his self-control.

Before her lips could graze his tip, he thrust his hands into her hair and grasped the back of her head. He tilted her head up so that she would look him in the eyes.

"I know you want me inside of you. And I might give you what you need. If…" he trailed off purposefully, averting his eyes for a moment, leaving his woman hanging on his last word. He waited until her eyes were pleading him to finish. "You beg for me. More intensely than anything you've ever begged for in your life. More than you would beg for oxygen if you were suffocating."

"You are my oxygen," Jane breathed, swearing loyalty to her King with the intensity of her gaze. "I love you," she faltered, helpless.

"And I love... your unwavering servitude," Loki replied, smirking at the young woman's display of affection. "Now beg."

Jane's hands began to grasp at Loki's thick organ, but he slapped her hands away. Jane whimpered. Her knees were beginning to get sore from the pressure against the rough carpet. "Please, Loki," she said. "I need…"

Loki narrowed his eyes. "What exactly do you think you need from me, slave?"

"I need you," Jane said. "I need to suck you dry. And swallow everything you have for me."

Loki's eyebrows shot up for a split second. "You never cease to surprise me," he said under his breath. Then, louder, he said, "Very well, slave, you will receive what I have in store for you." Loki pushed her head towards him slightly.

Jane felt the heat collect between her thighs as she slowly brought her lips towards Loki's organ. She closed her eyes, his skin soft against her lips. She brought her tongue out and slowly licked him up and down his length, savouring every moment.

Loki moaned slightly, frustrated that this mortal was taking her time. Just as he was about to reprimand her for her indolence, he felt her warm, wet mouth completely surround him. He had been in control up until this point. His eyes drifted shut as he felt himself hit the back of the young woman's throat. He considered thrusting into her mouth to punish her for making him lose his self-control, but he didn't want to interrupt the tantalizingly sweet rhythm that she had started.

Jane glanced upward, her eyes hazy with desire. She let her eyes roam over Loki's form. He had his arms out behind him, supporting him as he leaned back. His head was tilted all the way back, allowing Jane to admire his jawline. In this position, his chin was like a beautiful arrow pointing to the heavens. Jane began to eat Loki with increasing passion as she gazed at every aspect of his perfect arms and torso.

Loki's thighs began to tense, and his deep moans conveyed that he was approaching the edge. He brought his head up again and watched Jane pleasure him like she had been born for this sole purpose. "Wait," he said, his hands suddenly in her hair again. He pulled her away from him. "Bend over. I want to come inside you."

Jane thrust herself forward, despite the hold he had on her hair. "Fuck that," she said, her lips glossy, and enveloped him in her mouth again.

Loki smirked at this mortal's brazen words. "What have I done to you," he murmured, his long fingers toying with a strand of her blonde hair. His thumb stroked her cheekbone. Loki was admiring his work. "An hour with me and you're already a vixen."

Jane tore herself away for one brief moment, just to say: "I'm _your_ vixen, Loki."

Loki hummed with pleasure, satisfied that not only had he persuaded this mortal to willfully subjugate herself to him, but that he had turned her into a little sex kitten, too. He loved exerting power over others, and wielding power over a sexually submissive young woman was the sweetest thing of all.

Jane continued to pleasure him, and watched as his eyebrows began to tilt into a silent expression of pleading, of vulnerability. Loki's moans hitched up a register. Loudly, he cursed and called his slave's name, and Jane kept her mouth around him, receiving her reward. She consumed him in every way possible.

Jane didn't notice that her jaw was sore until Loki had collapsed backwards onto the bed. He was completely spent. Jane licked her lips, ensuring she tasted every stray drop. As she moved up towards his face, her tongue grazed his pelvis, his abdomen, his chest and, finally, his neck.

Loki was perfectly still, save for the rise and fall of his chest. Jane hovered above him; her wrists still bound, she put her elbows on either side of his sweet face to prop herself up. She noticed a bead of sweat at Loki's hairline on his smooth forehead, which she softly kissed.

Jane wondered if it was possible to count each of Loki's long, black eyelashes. As she contemplated this, Loki's eyes slowly opened. His gaze found her gaze.

Jane saw a man with no more walls, no more barriers, no more tricks. Loki's eyes crinkled with a smile. He raised his head off the bed. Jane closed her eyes, anticipating the softness of his lips on her mouth.

Instead, Loki sank his teeth into the side of her neck. With renewed vigor, Loki flipped his woman onto her back and pressed his groin between her legs. He snickered at the look of shock on Jane's face.

His dark voice rose up from his throat. "Your turn."


	2. Dungeon Flames

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, favourites and follows! My heart soars with glee.**

**Loki shall revisit Jane in Chapter 4. Tonight, I am introducing a second OC to you, a fiery redhead with a thirst to be quenched. Also, I took into consideration the reviewer who suggested the cell idea. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Made to be Ruled

_Chapter II: Dungeon Flames_

Loki looked upon his captive woman with pride. In the candlelight of his dungeon, she looked young – she couldn't have been older than twenty-five. That was a mere quarter of a century, compared to his centuries of life. Hundreds of years ago, when he first began to conquer women, he had voraciously pursued nearly every one he caught whiff of. But these experiences only served to refine his tastes. Today, he was much more selective.

And yet his appetite remained just as rapacious, just as insatiable, as it had always been.

The young woman's eyes fluttered open. She felt like she had been drugged and was waking up from a coma. Her mind tried, in vain, to make sense of her current surroundings.

Haphazardly strewn on various ledges on the gray brick walls were candles, ablaze with relentless fire, the only source of light; there were no windows. The ground was cement which feverishly sucked the heat from her knees and lower legs. She realized she was sitting with her feet tucked under her bum, and that her arms felt numb. She wiggled her wrists around and felt that they were confined in iron cuffs, chained to the wall above her head. She was trapped in a corner of the room. Then she looked down at her body and realized why she was freezing cold.

She was completely naked.

Loki grinned, watching the young woman's breath quicken as confusion spread across her face. He had been waiting, sitting on the bed, shrouded in relative darkness. Before his captive began to panic, Loki snapped his fingers. The fireplace at the foot of his bed suddenly erupted in blue flames, illuminating his lithe body. He was wearing pants but had decided to leave the rest of his smooth, flawless skin bare. The glow of the firelight kissed his elegant cheekbones and clavicle.

The woman looked at the new source of light, then at the bed and then, finally, at her captor. Her eyes widened at the sight of the man's beautiful eyes and wicked smile.

Loki kept his gaze steady with the woman's unblinking stare. "Welcome to my dungeon," he said, his voice cool, as if he was hosting Sunday brunch. His eyes wandered down to her breasts, which looked as succulent as the inside of an apple. Her nipples were unabashedly erect. "Are you cold?" Loki teased.

It was not the sound of his voice that irritated the woman. No, the sound of his voice was like warm brandy poured over creamy dessert.

It was his tone. That arrogant tone of voice irritated her instantly.

Her light eyebrows knit together and her lips curled into a snarl. "Fuck you," she said.

Loki laughed, standing up. "I see I've captured a little spitfire," he remarked, slowly striding over to her. He stood directly in front of her. She had to crane her neck upwards, past his dark pink nipples and the efficient muscles of his arms, to avoid staring right at his crotch. Loki reached his hands out to toy with the auburn waves cascading down the woman's shoulders. "You're as fierce as the hue of your hair, aren't you, Red?"

"My name," the woman said, "is Quinn."

"Despite your weakened state, you still demand respect. Admirable," Loki said. He gave her hair another caress before grabbing it and yanking her head into his crotch. "But futile."

His pants were low slung, so her forehead pressed against the bare skin of his lower abdomen. Both his abs and the bulge in his pants were hard as granite.

Loki released Quinn's head, finally, allowing her a chance to breathe. He kept his eyes fixed on her face, analyzing her reaction to being pressed against his larger-than-life male organ.

"Now you know," he said, "how desperately I need you." His slender legs bent at the knees until his gaze was parallel with Quinn's. The colour of his eyes seemed to shift from green to blue, or was that the candlelight playing tricks? Quinn wondered.

Loki placed his hands on her knees. "Bring your feet forward," he commanded.

Quinn untucked her feet from under herself so that her bum was on the floor. She lengthened her legs directly out in front of her, on either side of Loki's bare feet. She noticed the graceful arches of his feet. The big toe of his left foot pointed inward ever so slightly. His toes were immaculate. Quinn felt a strange urge to suck them.

Loki rubbed his thumbs lightly on the inside of Quinn's legs, just below her knees. Then he massaged her calves slowly, the friction warming her skin.

"I don't know if want me to relax, or what, but it's not working," Quinn said, her toes curling.

One corner of Loki's mouth turned up. "I don't want you to relax, Red…" he said, a tiger biding his time. He continued to massage her legs, slowly pushing them further and further apart. He began to lower his face to the ground. Then –

He pulled her knees up and wrapped her legs around his neck. "I want you to come." He buried his face between her legs.

Quinn gasped at the feel of his warm, wet tongue flitting like a hummingbird against her. It felt as if he had an army of tongues, licking her in the spot other men had never seemed to discover.

Quinn felt as if she were slipping back into her drugged coma, her eyelids falling shut. Loki's mouth was magic, whispering silent spells to her center. She began to heat up between her legs and moaned as the warmth spread all the way to her fingertips. She gripped the chains that fastened her iron cuffs to the wall.

Loki hummed, sending more vibrations throughout Quinn's body. He began to rub the insides of Quinn's thighs with his hands. He drank in the sweet taste of his captive woman, pleased that he had got her going in such a short time.

Quinn pressed herself into Loki's face. Her high voice escaped her throat as she felt a slender finger enter her, slipping in easily. She forgot about the iron cuffs, forgot about the brick walls and the fireplace. In her mind, she was approaching a cliff and preparing to dive out over the edge into a lush field of flowers and honey and feathers and…

A cold draft grazed the wetness between her legs. Startled, Quinn's eyes opened and she was shocked to see Loki was no longer between her thighs but, instead, sitting on the bed with a smirk. _How the hell did he get over there?_

That smug look on Loki's face absolutely infuriated Quinn. Once again, she was alone on the cold, hard floor. "No-o-o," she cried.

Loki watched her hang her head as he reveled in his own power to reduce a woman to her carnal instincts. He licked his lips, savouring the taste of her excitement. "Day after day, you sweat and toil, striving for merely the illusion of freedom. Give up that life. Surrender yourself to me," he said. "And I will give you the release you truly need."

Quinn brought her head up to look at him.

Loki waved his hand in the air, magically releasing the cuffs from Quinn's wrists.

Quinn dropped her arms, grateful for the blood flowing back into them. She stood up, wobbly at first. She ached in places she didn't know could ache. She felt so empty.

She needed Loki to fill her.

Loki held his arms out to receive Quinn as she took one tentative step towards him.

And then she was running. She jumped onto him, pushing him back on the bed and straddling him. Loki was stunned for a moment, which was all the time it took for Quinn to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him ferociously. Her tongue slid between his lips, past his teeth, and played with his tongue, the tongue that had been against her center, teasing her, only moments ago.

Loki unzipped his pants and quickly wiggled out of them, tossing them aside. He needed his hands free so that he could grab those breasts that he'd been craving this whole time. He shoved his face between Quinn's breasts and pressed them against his cheeks, as if he were trying to drown himself in her softness.

Quinn felt his organ sticking straight up, the tip of it grazing her center. She slid back and forth on it ever so slightly, hearing Loki's muffled moan. She smiled, enjoying the idea of being able to tease the God of Mischief. "Finish me first. Then you can have it," Quinn said.

Loki's face reappeared. "I will be the one deciding when I can have you," he said, flipping Quinn onto her back. He grasped her wrists and anchored them above her head, amidst the locks of her hair fanned out on the black silk sheets. Quinn wrapped her legs around Loki's waist and raised her head, trying to kiss him again. Loki kept his face out of reach, frustrating Quinn.

With one fluid motion, Loki was inside his woman. He smiled down at her as she arched her back and squeezed her eyes shut. Excruciatingly slow in his movements, he began to twist his hips in the shape of a figure-eight. An infinity symbol. _You will forever be my prisoner._

Quinn was not resisting his grip on her wrists in the slightest. Loki let go of her wrists and trailed his fingers down her arms. He slid his arms underneath her shoulders, wrapping her up tightly so his hard chest was pressed against her soft one.

He licked a spot on the side of her neck, then brought his lips down and sucked gently. He listened to her moaning, knowing she couldn't stand the slow pacing of his movements. She was pressing her hips up against him.

Loki brought his lips to Quinn's ear. Merely listening to him breathe was enough to provoke another tidal wave of anticipation from Quinn's center. "Oh my God," she moaned, her lower lip quivering.

Loki kept moving inside her at his teasing pace. "Tell me, my prisoner, why you deserve to be released," he said. "Why should I give you what you so desperately crave?"

Quinn whimpered, cursing his name. "Because... Loki…"

"I'm afraid that's not good enough," Loki said. Slowly, he began to pull himself out of her center.

Quinn felt the emptiness wash over her again. She was almost in tears.

And then Loki thrust deeply inside of her, filling her completely. Quinn screamed, the white teeth of her grin glimmering in the candlelight. Finally, Loki was giving it to her.

His pace was more forceful, faster now. Quinn's voice had turned wild; she was moaning and cursing loudly. She completely lost herself in the joy of being taken by a man who knew she wasn't fragile, who knew just how hard she needed it.

Her voice was melodious to Loki's ears. He watched as a drop of sweat dripped off his chin and landed on her neck. Quinn's eyes opened and she saw the beads of sweat produced by Loki's wild activity. She buried her face in his neck and rubbed her chest against him, trying to cover herself with his scent.

Loki began groaning, almost inaudibly compared to Quinn's screaming. He was giving himself to her so forcefully that Quinn's head was nodding up and down involuntarily, her breasts bouncing in time with his rhythm.

Quinn exposed her neck invitingly. Loki opened his mouth and bit into the side of it, scraping her flesh raw with his teeth. He devoured her, a hunter enjoying his fresh kill.

"Loki," Quinn screamed. "I'm going to…"

Loki played with Quinn's nipples as he continued to bite viciously at her neck. Quinn's voice bounced off the walls of the dungeon as he felt her spasm wildly around his organ. He glanced at her lightly freckled face, which appeared to be in pain.

More than half a minute went by, and Quinn was still coming. Loki felt pride surge throughout his body at his accomplishment.

Because he knew she could take it, Loki bit her shoulders and neck even harder, drawing blood, until finally Quinn went limp underneath him.

Save for Quinn's ragged breaths, the dungeon was now quiet. It was as if she had died underneath him. Loki was a master at delivering life-shattering orgasms.

He grabbed a fistful of Quinn's hair. Giving it a tug, he said, "Now get back in the corner, prisoner."

Quinn's eyelids opened, but the rest of her remained still. Impatient, Loki stood up and slid his arms under Quinn, one arm under her back and the other under her legs. He picked her up easily and carried her over to the iron handcuffs on the wall.

He set her down facing the wall, on her knees. Loki snapped each cuff in place over her wrists. "Stick out your ass, Red. Unless you want a spanking."

Quinn obeyed, and placed her hands on the brick wall to steady herself. Loki delivered a brutal spanking anyway, marking his possession with a red hand print. He gripped her waist and pulled her against his pelvis, sliding himself all the way inside her. Alternating hands each time, Loki continued to spank her as he found his rhythm.

Quinn's ass was numb, her wrists were sore, and her knees hurt. She was about to shatter into pieces for the second time that night.

Loki recognized her telltale screaming, her voice going hoarse. He continued to pound her with authority, watching her ass bounce mercilessly against his pelvis. His own voice began to chime in with Quinn's. At last, Loki lost himself, his mouth forming a perfect O and his gaze floating into another realm.

Quinn twisted her head around to look at Loki. His black hair was now wavy due to the humidity they'd created. His cheeks were flushed, contrasting with the colour of his eyes. "Come here," she said.

Loki pulled himself out of her center and brought his face forward, close enough for Quinn to inhale his breath. She lightly brushed her lips against his and then sucked gently on his lower lip.

Loki released the handcuffs. He stood up and walked over to his bed. "You are free to go," he said, gesturing to the door. He fluffed the pillows, pulled the bedcovers open and got in.

Quinn smiled, walking right behind him. "I know," she said.

Loki held the bedcovers open for her as she slipped in and nestled beside him.


	3. When You Bite the Hand that Feeds

**A/N: Thank you for the suggestions! I hope you enjoy my take on the scenario of a servant girl brought to Loki's chambers.**

Made to be Ruled

_Chapter III: When You Bite the Hand that Feeds_

"That's fine. I'll take care of everything. Feel better," Trista dictated to the messenger, her hands flying, trying to do too much at once. She heard the messenger walk out of the kitchen, presumably on his way back to the servants' quarters.

Trista overturned her mixing bowl onto the counter, dumping out the dough. "Shit," she said, realizing she'd forgotten to sprinkle flour on the counter beforehand. She spun around and made a beeline for the pantry, still carrying the mixing bowl.

She heard the kitchen door open again with a squeak. "What, is he calling in sick for tomorrow too?" she said, still looking inside the pantry. She hauled the flour bag off the shelf and balanced it on her hip, like a heavy infant she didn't want, and dashed back to the counter.

"It's two minutes past midnight."

Trista plunked the flour bag and mixing bowl onto the counter, twisting her head in the direction of the raspy voice. "Oh my God," she said, her jaw dropping as she recognized the green eyes, the black hair, the infamous emerald and gold clothing. He loomed in the doorway, almost as tall as the door itself. "My prince, I beg your forgiveness."

Loki kept his eyes fixed on Trista and lowered his chin. He began to approach her, the sound of his footsteps on the kitchen tile like a slow metronome.

His silence made Trista's whole body tense. "I apologize for my impudence, Your Grace. I thought it was someone – I don't know how I could forget about…"

He was standing so close to her now, Trista could feel his breath on her face.

Trista bowed her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry. Normally she wouldn't be so emotional, but she was exhausted. She'd worked her usual shift; only to find out she'd have to work till dawn now to fill in for the night cook.

Loki could only see the top of her head. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun. He heard a faint _tap_ and looked down at his shoe; a single drop of moisture had landed on the polished black leather. With a slender, white hand, Loki grasped Trista's chin and lifted her head up. "Look at me."

Feeling like she was about to faint, Trista willed herself to open her eyes. It took all her energy to keep her body from shivering; only her lower lip quivered.

Loki brought his thumb up to her lip and the quivering ceased with his gentle touch.

Trista's face flushed. She'd served the royal family for years but had never even made eye contact with Prince Loki. However, she knew more about his antics than she dared to admit. On her way to work in the morning, sometimes she'd catch a glimpse of a woman in a party dress leaving his bedchambers. Or, on her way back to the servants' quarters after her shift, she'd hear screams, moans, and loud thuds coming from inside his room.

The part she was especially embarrassed to admit, however, was that Loki's bedroom was not on her normal route. For months, she'd secretly been making a detour in her travels to and from the kitchen, if only to fuel her imagination for when she was lonely at night. She couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a lover; she worked in the kitchen six days a week, leaving little energy left over to develop a romance. If she was honest with herself, she felt jealous of Loki's women.

_I wish I could surrender, _Trista thought, _to a man who knows how to take control._

"Do not waste your tears. I have no sympathy for disobedient servants." Loki's hand dropped from her chin and he turned his back to her.

Trista wiped her face on the long sleeve of her uniform. She held her arm out to examine the mess she'd made of her sleeve. She definitely needed a tissue. She turned around to grab one out of a drawer.

Suddenly, Loki's arms were around her waist. He pressed his groin against her ass. "I could have you killed."

Trista looked down. She realized her hands had flown to her stomach to squeeze Loki's arms. She might have been scared, but it had been so long since a man had held her. For Trista, oxytocin was more powerful than adrenaline.

Loki could tell she was blushing; her ears were bright red. He leaned down and licked the inside of her right ear, the tip of his tongue cool against her skin. "You shall die a thousand little deaths by my hands." He bit her earlobe. "And by my lips."

Loki spun Trista around and grabbed her ass, picking her up and sitting her on the counter. With his teeth, he ripped open the front of her buttoned shirt. He turned his head to the side to spit out a button and then launched his face into her chest.

Trista's hands were on Loki's back. The back of her head was pushed up against the cupboard doors and her hair was coming loose from its bun.

Loki dug his fingernails into the insides of Trista's thighs. Her pants were threadbare after years of service. Loki found a little hole that had already begun to form along the seam, just under Trista's crotch, and slid his finger into it, working his finger around and around, enlarging the hole.

Trista looked down. Loki's entire fist could now fit through the hole.

Loki sank his teeth into the top of Trista's breast, eliciting a shriek. He shoved his other hand inside the hole in Trista's pants and pulled his hands in opposite directions, pieces of fabric coming away in his grasp. Loki's elbow knocked the metal mixing bowl off the counter and it clanged onto the floor.

"My uniform…"

"Fuck the uniform. You won't need it, where you're going."

"Where are we going?"

Loki brought his gaze level with Trista's, his nose touching hers, his eyes unblinking. Trista blinked twice as fast, as if to compensate. "'We'? How presumptuous of you." Loki removed her shirt from her shoulders and picked up the remnants of her pants from the floor. He left Trista sitting on the counter in her black lace bra and panties and walked over to the trash can by the door. The hand that clasped the bundle of fabric hovered over the can. He ensured Trista's eyes were locked on his and, without breaking eye contact, he dropped the clothing into the trash.

Trista crossed her arms, conscious of her body, especially since Loki was fully dressed.

"I am a Prince of Asgard. There is no 'we'. There is me, and everybody else. And you are nobody. An insubordinate, dressed like a slut under her servant's uniform, who attempted to seduce me when I came looking for my midnight meal."

Trista's mouth fell open.

Loki laughed, his smile incongruent with the evil in his eyes. "No one would believe your side of the story. I said I could have you killed." He swung the door open and walked out. "Have a nice shift, servant girl. I'll see you at the gallows tomorrow morning."

Trista bolted after Loki. The door was swinging shut and she slammed her body against it, pushing it open again. She would have a bruise later from the impact. "Wait." She ran to keep up with his long strides as he walked down the hallway. Her hair had completely fallen loose from its bun. Trista grabbed Loki's hand and fell to her knees, strands of hair in her eyes. Her bra strap slipped off one shoulder. "I'll do anything, please."

Loki raised one eyebrow and looked down his nose at her, but did not pull his hand away. "Your history of disobedience suggests otherwise."

Trista shook her head. "I'll prove it to you, Your Grace."

Loki gripped Trista's hands and yanked her to her feet. Surprised by the force of his pull, Trista fell forward onto his chest. Loki smirked. "My appetite requires a woman with more stamina."

Trista's mouth hardened. If there was anything her twelve-hour shifts in the kitchen had taught her, it was that she had a shitload of stamina. She raised her chin in the air, keeping her gaze steady.

She reached between her breasts, untying the laces of her bra. Once it was loose, she held it against her chest, covering herself as she untied the strings on either side of her panties. Then she shed both garments at once, tucking the small bits of lace into Loki's front pants pocket. "And I require a man who can make a woman surrender."

"Will you settle for a god?" Loki hoisted Trista into his arms.

* * *

Tonight was a night of firsts for Trista. The first time she'd been carried naked down a corridor, the first time she'd entered a Prince's bedchambers, and the first time she'd worn a cape.

Trista was standing in Loki's walk-in closet, examining her reflection in the long mirror erect in the corner. The closet was amply furnished with shelves and racks; silk and leather and cotton folded neatly and arranged according to colour. "For a God of Chaos, you have a very organized closet."

Loki let his eyes wander down Trista's form; she had found his cape hanging on the back of the closet door and was now wearing it. It fit him perfectly, of course, but on this young woman it was so long it trailed behind her on the floor. "Where would the fun be in disassembling something if it were not structured in the first place?" He came closer and stood behind her. Trista raised her arms, untucking her long hair from underneath the cape. While her hands were in the air, Loki grasped them and quickly tied them together using the flimsy bra that had been in his pocket. Her hands were behind her neck and her elbows pointed up. Loki had his feet on either side of Trista's feet; his body seemed to swallow hers. "I know you've taken to walking past my bedchambers. And I know why." He ran his hands down her back.

Trista shivered at the sensation of his touch through the cape.

His voice came from his soft lips buried in her hair. "I know what you need."

Trista turned to face him and placed her hands behind his neck. "Then give it to me."

Loki leaned down, almost close enough to brush his lips against hers. Trista closed her eyes. Then her head almost snapped back as Loki picked her up, wrapping her thighs around his waist. He slammed her against a rack of clothing, hangers and garments falling down around them.

Trista reached up and hung onto the horizontal rod, keeping her ankles crossed behind Loki's back. He untied the leather strings of his pants, freeing himself. Trista felt the bare skin of his taut ass against her heels. "You seek to prove your obedience to me, servant girl? Then scream your Master's name."

He slid the tip of his organ around her wet entrance. She breathed in his exhalations, wanting him inside her desperately. "Loki."

"You want to live?" He rammed her against the wall again. "Louder."

Trista screamed as sharp fingernails dug into her ass. "Loki, fuck…"

Trista's weight was too much for the clothing rod; it snapped in two. She fell to the floor and Loki followed, falling on top of her. The shelves on either side of the rod collapsed inward. Clothing showered down; something black and silken covered Trista's face.

Loki kissed her through the soft material. Trista moaned, calling his name again, her voice muffled. Then she felt a hand at her neck.

"Beg for your Master." Loki slowly applied pressure to her throat, cutting off her air. His other hand he allowed to roam down between her thighs. He applied equal pressure to her center.

Trista's head sank back into the soft pile of clothes and she began to feel herself drift away.

Until Loki flipped her so she was kneeling on all fours. He ripped the bra away from her wrists and re-tied it around her neck. The flimsy lace permitted her to breathe.

Loki pulled on the bra, reining in his servant girl. He slid his length up and down the outside of her center, soaking himself with her anticipation.

Trista couldn't wait a moment longer. She reached behind her and grabbed him at his base; her fingers could not encompass his width. She sat down on his lap and felt him slip inside easily. She was so ready for him.

Loki grabbed her hair right at her scalp and pulled. "You claim you need a man who can make you surrender. Yet you refuse to submit to me." He lifted her ass up and removed himself. Hands still on her waist, he stood up, taking her with him, and threw her on the upholstered bench in the middle of the room. The bench was just long enough to support Trista's back; she had her feet on the floor to keep herself from slipping down.

He stepped out of the leather pants that had pooled at his ankles and picked them up. Using the pants, he tied Trista's wrists to the arm of the bench above her head.

Trista's legs were splayed apart. Loki tied her ankles to the legs of the bench using two belts. "I am your Master," he said, standing between her legs. "And I'll fuck you when I decide you're ready."

Loki lifted the edge of the bench, angling Trista's center straight at his organ. His arms were slender but powerful.

His hair was an absolute mess and his beautiful eyes glowed. Trista gazed upon him and smiled.

Loki smirked back at her. He began to slide the tip of his organ inside. Slowly, he filled her. He was enormous, but he had tortured her until she was more than ready to receive him.

Trista's eyes drifted shut, her body relaxing, receiving his warmth. From her parted lips came a low moan.

"You can do better than that," Loki said, rocking back and forth. He raised and lowered the bench in time with his rhythm. His organ stroked her at every angle. "I want all of Asgard to hear who has finally taken control of you."

He placed a hand on her center. His fingers, wet with her desire, coaxed her expertly.

There was nothing Trista could do to stop herself from succumbing. Her toes curled; her flushed lips stretched into a grin. She revelled in her helplessness. "Master, you have complete control of me."

Loki frowned. "Still able to form a sentence. Not good enough." He let go of the bench, the two legs thudding against the floor. Suddenly, his face was right in front of hers. "I want you screaming for mercy like a fucking animal."

The belts that restricted Trista's ankles had loosened slightly; Loki grabbed her waist, pressing himself into her. Trista screamed, feeling him even more deeply than before. His teeth sank into her throat, the pain swirling in her head along with ecstasy. The pressure on her airway rendered her screams ragged.

Loki tasted blood. He had created a tiny red dot on her neck. He left it alone, admiring the lazy trail of crimson flowing down.

He looked at her face beneath him. Her hair was everywhere; some of it stuck to her shoulders, some of it reached the floor. She was no longer a kitchen servant, with her tight little body veiled by a uniform and her hair restrained.

No. She had yielded to his dominance, tasted the freedom afforded only by bondage. She was now his possession.

"Say my name."

The feral woman beneath him complied, screaming so loud he almost jumped. Pride surged through his body, pushing him to the brink. Any moment, he would topple over the edge. "Say it again, and again."

Trista nearly extinguished her voice with the ferocity of her screams. She opened her eyes and saw his beautiful, flushed face above her, his eyebrows knit together, his lips apart. His hair formed a curtain around her face. They were the only people in the world. She reached her face up and kissed him.

Loki moaned into her mouth. He felt her core spasm around him as she finally, completely, succumbed. It was enough to push him off the edge. He erupted, pouring his heart into Trista.

* * *

Sunshine streamed in through the tall windows of Loki's bedroom. The light, plus two voices, coaxed her into consciousness.

Trista wiggled her arms and legs. She was no longer confined to the bench but, instead, enveloped in the sheets of Loki's bed.

Trista turned her head in the direction of Loki's voice. He was standing at the door, speaking to –

_Oh my God, it's my supervisor. _Trista's hand flew to her hair and tried to smooth down the tangled mess.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, you cannot possibly expect me to take you seriously. This servant abandoned her position. You know the rules." Her supervisor lowered his voice. "Such disobedience is punishable by death."

"My servant abandoned her position at my request. Don't _you_ know the rules? You work for me. It is _your_ disobedience that should be punished." The corners of Loki's mouth curled up, but his tone was foreboding. "With all due respect."

The supervisor gulped, the veins in his neck protruding. "Of course, Your Majesty." He apologized profusely, bowing his head.

Loki dismissed him and slammed the door shut. He turned towards his bed. "The bad news is, you still work twelve-hour shifts, six days a week. The good news is…" In a flash, he disappeared and reappeared over top of her on the bed. He grasped her hands and pinned them above her head. His lips spread into a smile, revealing white teeth. "… Now you work in my chambers only. You are my personal sex slave, Trista."

* * *

**A/N: Loki will revisit Trista in Chapter 5.**


	4. A Snake in the Library

Made to be Ruled

_Chapter IV: A Snake in the Library_

Jane ran her index finger horizontally along the spines of the books squished together on the shelf. Her footsteps were quiet on the university library carpet and she was so shielded by the tall bookshelves that even God could not see her.

She brought a hand to her shoulder, massaging it. Her neck hurt from craning it sideways for so long, reading the tiny print that snaked up each spine. Someone had abandoned a paper coffee cup on a shelf. She furrowed her brows.

Her finger stopped at a gap between two hardcover books. She glanced at the slip of paper she'd written the Dewey decimal number on, and then at the two book spines on either side of the gap.

Well, she had found where her book was supposed to be.

Jane emerged from between the two bookshelves and walked to the librarian at the front desk.

"Excuse me." Jane held the slip of paper up to her collarbone with two fingers. "The online catalogue said this book was on the shelves, but I checked and it's not there?"

The librarian held her hand out and Jane forfeited the slip of paper. "It might have been stolen. This happens from time to time. I'll make note of it." She put the slip of paper down beside her computer. "Can I help you with anything else?"

_Had she helped me in the first place?_ Jane wondered. "No, that's it, I guess." Jane walked towards the exit, deciding she'd try to find her book at the public library instead. Her hand wandered to her shoulder to adjust the strap of her tote bag.

Only there was no strap. Jane panicked for a second.

She had forgotten her bag somewhere between the shelves.

A lady's voice rang through the loudspeakers from the ceiling. "A friendly reminder that the library is closing in ten minutes' time and will reopen Monday morning at eight. Thank you."

Jane had a fleeting thought of what a library might be like at night. Lonely, some might say. But who could be lonely when you were surrounded by Wilde, Austen, Shakespeare…?

Jane led the life of an introvert, often baffling her gregarious friends by staying in on Saturdays. In truth, Jane craved a different kind of human contact.

She needed a challenge.

Her current challenge was remembering by which bookshelf she'd left her bag. The shelves looked like dominoes arranged by giants. Each was identical. After a few minutes, Jane had poked her head into all the aisles in the general area she remembered standing in. Still no bag.

And then her heart stopped. At the very end of one aisle stood a tall man with black hair, his back facing her. He didn't seem to be aware of Jane's presence. Images of the night spent in her hotel room with Loki surfaced in her mind. Jane smiled and began tiptoeing up to the tall man. _I can be just as mischievous as him,_ she told herself.

Jane was standing right behind him now. He smelled different than she remembered. "Miss me?" she asked.

The man turned around. This man looked to be almost fifty, his face weathered and peppered with facial hair. Jane felt her armpits get clammy."Oh," she said. "Sorry, I thought you were…"

A Norse god?

The man shrugged. "Happens." He checked his watch, then closed the book he was browsing and walked away.

Jane wiped her palms on her skirt. She still hadn't found her bag, and now she'd just made an ass of herself. Great.

The lady's voice rang out of the loudspeakers again. "It is seven o'clock. The library is now closed. Have a nice evening."

_The paper coffee cup,_ Jane thought. All she had to do was find it, and she'd find her bag. She ran up and down the narrow aisles, scanning the shelves. _I can't believe I'm hunting for garbage._

Finally, she found the shelf with the cup. Her bag lay several feet further into the aisle on the floor where she'd left it. She picked it up and rummaged through it to make sure her wallet was still there. She breathed out, allowing herself to relax.

All at once, the power went out.

"Wait, I'm still here," she called out. "Hello?"

The absence of light was unsettling.

Jane put one hand out in front of her and started walking, relying on her memory to guide her out from the aisle and around the bookshelves.

"Miss? Did you hear my announcement?"

Jane's head turn in the direction of the librarian's high voice. "Yes, sorry, where is the exit?"

"Right this way, miss."

Jane felt a small hand grasp hers. The librarian began to guide her.

As they walked, the librarian made a right when Jane could have sworn they should have turned left. Jane spoke up. "Sorry, we're going to the front doors, right?"

"Don't you trust me?"

Jane blushed at the question. As she tried to think of a polite way to respond, she heard a door shut behind her. She extended her arm out and made contact with a wall. "Hey," she said, her voice quickly bouncing back to her off the tight walls. It sounded like they were in a closet. Her mouth went dry.

The hand that Jane clasped suddenly grew larger, became longer, cooler. It gripped Jane's hand firmly. A low voice dripped into her ear. "Because you shouldn't have."

Jane couldn't see a thing, but she immediately recognized the voice. "Loki."

"You sound relieved. Yet another mistake."

Jane pressed her hand against the wall. She felt compressed. "I'm just a little…" Her hands found his body and she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Claustrophobic." She buried her face in the layers of silk on his chest. Inhaling deeply, she let his warm scent sink into her. His clothes smelled of old secrets.

Loki's hands remained by his sides. "Your fear is befitting, but sorely misdirected. The only thing you should fear," he said. "Is my power to bend you to my will."

Jane stood on her toes and pressed her mouth against his neck. If he didn't put his hands on her soon, she was going to go insane. "I said I was your vixen, Loki. I love you."

"So eager to promise yourself to me. Your naivety makes you the perfect plaything." Loki placed his hands on top of hers and removed her hands from his waist. He reached behind her and grasped the doorknob, twisting it. The door clicked open. "You may leave here, but there is no escaping the bondage of your word."

Jane searched for Loki's hand in vain. She flew her arms about, trying to make contact with him. She called his name, but there was no response.

He had vanished.

She tucked a blonde curl behind her ear, then ran her hands down her thighs, smoothing out her skirt. She had a habit of fiddling with her hair and clothes when she was in distress. Emerging from the closet, she breathed in the smell of books. She was grateful to be in the wide, open area again, but not so grateful that Loki had bailed on her.

Her heart was still vibrating. There was no way she would be able to sleep tonight.

She reached into her tote bag, digging around for her cell phone. The battery was dangerously low, but she decided to use the light from the screen to illuminate a path for herself.

As she walked, the screen went dark, an automatic effort to conserve the charge. In the moment that Jane took to tap the screen, she felt something coil around her ankle and slither up her calf.

She shrieked, the cell phone dropping to the floor. The light from the screen fell dimly upon her legs and she saw a narrow, pale green snake slowly wind its way up her bare leg. "Loki?" Her body froze; she didn't want to hurt the animal, but she also didn't want it on her leg.

The snake hissed, its tongue wavering like a tiny tuning fork. Its head disappeared beneath the hem of her skirt.

The phone went dark again.

She felt another lengthy form wind its way around her other ankle, slithering quickly up to meet its mate at the center of her legs. The snakes were sliding around her thighs, following the line of her bikini briefs. She squeezed the strap of her tote bag with both hands. They were so close – too close.

A tongue pushed its way under the thin cotton and licked her warm skin.

"Loki." She was frightened, not by the snakes, but by her realization that she was aroused.

One of the snakes crept up to the waistband of her skirt, then up and under her shirt. It emerged from the v-neck collar and wound itself loosely around her neck.

She felt a warm puff of air on her ear. "A smart woman would have ripped the serpents from her leg and run away." Loki was behind her; she could smell him. She felt his smirk against her earlobe. "But your desires overpower you, rendering you foolish. Rendering you…"

The snake that was coiled around her thigh began to flit its tongue against her tiny, sensitive area, the part of her that could be so weak yet so demanding. Jane closed her eyes; she dropped her tote bag on the floor and leaned back, wanting Loki to embrace her.

"… Vulnerable. Do you feel that way, my sweet slave? Do you feel vulnerable?"

Jane ran her tongue along her upper lip. She reached her hands behind her, wanting him.

The snake tightened its grip around her neck. She gasped. Her hands could not make contact with Loki's form.

Loki chastised her with a few clicks of his tongue. "The balance of power is always tipped in my favour. You shall never make demands of me."

Jane whimpered, becoming faint from lack of air.

"I recall you claiming I was your oxygen." He tucked her blonde curls over her shoulder so he could watch the snake around her collar. He took care to smooth down a few errant strands with his gentle fingers. "Let us test the veracity of those words."

The snake against her center was making her legs go weak. As her consciousness began to draw the curtains on her mind, she briefly recalled that snakes smelled with their tongues.

"By the way," Loki said. "You smell good enough to eat."

The snakes released their grips on her neck and clit, respectively. Jane gasped, her lungs hoarding the precious air.

The snakes darted to her wrists. At the same time, Loki hoisted her up by her waist at pushed her back against a bookshelf. The snakes wrapped themselves around her wrists and anchored them to the vertical metal sheets of the industrial bookcase; they pushed two books off the shelf in doing so. The books fell out the other side of the shelf onto the floor.

Her arms were splayed out on either side of her, parallel with the ground. Loki kneeled before her, lifting up the bottom of her t-shirt and kissing her lower abdomen. The darkness heightened the sensation of his lips.

Jane gripped the snakes with her fingers; her legs struggled to support her weight.

"You came here looking for a book. But I'll give you what you really need, what you've needed ever since I claimed you in that hotel." He grasped the waistband of her cotton skirt and pulled his hands in opposite directions. The fabric tore cleanly in half. "No one can hear you now. Scream as loud as you can, I dare you."

His fingers were under her cotton briefs, encircling her and coaxing her, slippery against her center. Jane's lips parted. She leaned her head back against the books.

Loki snickered under his breath, listening to her moan. He wasn't even applying pressure to her legs, yet she was moving her feet further and further apart. He kissed her through the thin cotton, his tongue adding to the moisture already soaking the fabric. His voice vibrated against her center. "I own you."

She nodded, as if her head were electrically charged. "Yes."

His hands were on the waistband of the briefs, slowly curling them down. "I believe I have a favor to repay."

She whimpered, panting. If his lips moved just a fraction closer…

He ran the tip of his tongue along her skin above the top of her briefs. He continued to pull them down, glacial in his pace.

His fingers, his tongue, his breath. Jane groaned, "Loki, please… Fu-uck."

He had pulled her briefs down low enough so that she was completely bared to him. He pulled them the rest of the way down her legs, holding onto her calves so she could keep her balance as she stepped out of the briefs.

Loki brought the fabric to his face, inhaling the scent of her anticipation. Then he folded the briefs in half. He plucked a book off a shelf and let the covers fall open to a random page. "Let's give someone a surprise, hmm?" He placed her briefs between the pages. Then he snapped the book shut and returned it to the shelf. "Now, where was I?"

Jane lifted her head. "You were driving me crazy, remember?"

"Was I?" He smirked, his hands caressing her inner thighs. His lips returned to her pelvis.

"Yes. You said you had a favor to repay."

Loki dug his fingernails into her ass. "Your servitude is not a favor."

"But you just said -"

He snickered. "I also said you shouldn't have trusted me. My sweet slave, when will you learn…" He brought his tongue out and pressed it to her center. He ran it slowly along her skin, tasting her.

Jane's voice erupted in a flurry of curses.

Then he stood up quickly, his mouth now pressed against her ear. "… that I never keep my promises?"

She whimpered for a moment, missing the pressure against her core. Loki filled his hands with her breasts through her t-shirt. He ran his thumbs across her nipples. They hardened even more, if that was possible. "You aren't even wearing a bra, you temptress." He pressed the massive bulge in his pants against her stomach. "How do mere mortal men refrain from ravaging you?"

Despite the darkness, Jane could imagine his amused expression. "I guess I'm not their type."

Loki shook his head, his nose tapping against hers. "Lord, what fools these mortals be." He pressed his mouth against her lips. His tongue pushed past her teeth, overwhelming her. Jane cursed the snakes bound to her wrists; she wanted so much to bury her hands in his hair, to run her palms down his back, to wrap her fingers around his –

Loki untied the fly of his pants. The infamous beast sprung free. He grabbed her ass, hoisting her up to meet his organ.

Jane's lips turned upwards into a smile. His grip was overpowering, yes, but so secure. Loki had a peculiar way of making her feel safe while simultaneously scaring the shit out of her.

He bounced her up and down a few times, running the tip of his organ along the outside of her center. Unlike his slave, he could see through the darkness, and he took full advantage of this power to watch her breasts bounce along with his movements. He hoped she never wore a bra again in her life.

Jane could feel the entire length of Loki underneath her, pulsing. It was so hard, it could probably support her weight on its own. She moved her hips against him. Loki wasn't even inside her and he was already soaked.

"I need to touch you, please." Jane's fingers were going numb.

He brought his head down and licked her clavicle. "How badly?"

"Oh… so much."

Loki rammed her against the bookcase, sending more books toppling to the floor on the other side. "I want to hear it. Convince me."

He opened his mouth wide and delivered a delicious bite to her neck. He listened, pleased, to the sound of her sweet voice escaping her. "Loki, I need you. I need to feel you with my hands, with my…"

He released her neck, intrigued. "With your, what?" He scraped his nails down her ass, along her thighs.

"With…" She bit her lip.

He slid only the tip of himself inside her open, inviting center. "With this?"

"Fuck. Yes. Please."

Jane's legs had a death grip around his waist, so Loki figured he could let go of her ass. He reapplied the pressure to her nipples, teasing her with the pads of his fingertips.

Jane thrust her hips forward, enveloping him, screaming at the same time. He fit inside her so deeply, she thought that if her soul was contained inside her body, his organ could reach it.

Loki kept his mouth against hers, feeding her with his exhalations and swallowing the curse words she screamed. He stood still, smirking at how ferociously she was thrusting against him. He lowered his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth through the cotton shirt.

"Rip my shirt open," Jane said.

Loki turned up a corner of his mouth. "But you'll need it later," he said from her breast. He brought his head up to her ear, licked the inside of it. "To wipe up my come."

His hands were on her waist again, pinning her to the bookcase. She tried thrusting again, but his powerful hands rendered her immobile.

"Be still, slave." He pounded himself into her, twisting his hips slightly in doing so.

Oh, he was definitely hitting her soul. Jane wondered if he was going to hit the bookcase through her tailbone. Anything was possible.

Loki's pants dropped to the floor from the effort of his thrusts. His deep voice twined with her high one as they screamed together, the soft covers of the books absorbing the sound waves, holding on to their secrets. Hers: that she wasn't as timid as she seemed to be. And his: that he wasn't as wicked as he tried to be.

His lips dominated hers and she readily submitted. She went quiet for a moment and he felt her lips curl into a familiar pattern. Silently, she mouthed, "I love you."

His forehead pressed against hers. She waited to see if his lips would shape a reply. His tongue flicked out, much like the snake's had earlier. "Slave."

Jane smiled. Oddly, in her mind, it was better than the clichéd response.

Finally, the snakes released their grip on her wrists. She flung her arms out, grabbing handfuls of Loki's soft hair and pulling. She was screaming wildly again.

Loki pressed his face against her neck and she felt his expression against her skin. His face and his organ told her he was going to fall apart at any moment. She lost herself in the feeling of needing, and being needed, so desperately.

He opened his mouth against her neck. Her vocal cords vibrated, almost as intensely as her center was pulsing around him, finally convincing his organ to relieve itself. He toppled over the edge, spilling into her everything he had tried so hard to keep to himself.

His arms were exhausted. Jane went limp. They both crumpled to the floor. Loki went down first, making sure Jane fell on top of him, sparing her from the hard ground.

Jane wrapped her arms around him and nestled herself under his chin. He stroked the messy blonde curls, brushing them away from her face and tucking them behind her ears. He rested his lips on the top of her head. He had his feet out in front of him; he felt a smaller foot rub against his own longer one. Her shoes were like doll's shoes, compared to his leather ones, custom made for him and him only.

A snake found its way over to Jane's lap. She picked it up and petted it. "Could I keep this, maybe?"

"A pet for my pet." Loki tried to sound incredulous, but he hid his smile in her hair. He almost said yes.

The snake disappeared from her lap. Jane's eyes widened and felt around on the ground, hoping maybe that it had just slithered away.

"I own you, slave, but you shall never own a piece of me. Remember, the balance of power is always in my favor."

Loki kissed the top of her head before he stood up. He handed Jane her cell phone.

Jane tapped the screen and shone the light in his direction.

But he was gone.

Jane groaned, hoisting herself onto her feet. She picked up her torn skirt and held it around herself like a towel.

Her thumb tapped the screen a few times, then she pressed it to her ear.

Her best friend's voice came on after two rings. "Hey."

"Hey Candy, I'm at the library, can you pick me up?"

"Nerd. Sure."

"And can you bring a pair of pants for me?"

"Why?"

"I'll explain after I find my underwear."

Candy's loud laugh rang through the speaker. "You slut! I'm sorry for calling you a nerd. I'm coming to get you, and then you're telling me everything."

Jane laughed. "I'll try."


	5. Sympathy for the Devil

**WARNING: This chapter contains violence.**

**A/N: I was listening to Demons by Imagine Dragons while writing most of this. If Loki had an iPod, I think that song would be on it :)**

Made to be Ruled

_Chapter V: Sympathy for the Devil_

A tiny squeak came from the corner of Loki's bedchambers. Trista turned her head in the direction of the helpless sound. Loki was admiring his reflection in the mirror; he shifted his gaze slightly to check out the tiny mouse sitting along the baseboard.

Trista quickly drew in a breath, but her reaction was much different than Loki expected. She clasped her palms together and pressed them to her bare breasts, a smile warming her face. Loki raised a dark eyebrow. She slowly walked towards the mouse. "Hey, little guy." The notes of her voice were like powdered sugar.

Half of Loki's face could not believe what he was seeing; the other half was slightly revolted at the sight of vermin.

"Do we have anything for him?" Trista whispered.

Loki scoffed. "A hot towel?"

"No, some cheese or bread or something."

Loki held out his hand, magicking his golden scepter into it. He banged the bottom of the scepter against the floor, the sudden noise prompting the mouse to scurry back into its hole in the wall.

Trista whipped around to face him with a scowl, her lips parted in protest.

Loki shrugged, smirking. He never got sick of the sight of livid women. Especially when they were bare-ass naked in his bedchambers. "I've got business to attend to. And you," he said, sauntering over towards her. He reached for a lock of her messy dark brown hair, smoothing it between his fingers. "Shall await my return."

"What if I -?" Trista started to say, but Loki vanished before she could finish.

Trista looked down at herself. Strangely, she felt more naked in his absence. _Time to raid the prince's closet._

Loki had repaired the closet with magic since their tryst; the clothes were once again sorted nicely on shelves and racks, save for his cape which he was wearing today. She started rifling through his drawers and shelves, looking for something fit for her figure.

_A notorious womanizer and nothing for his victims' walks of shame. _Trista let her hands wander to a men's silk button-up shirt. She donned the shirt; she was so much shorter than its rightful owner that it hung almost to her knees. She rolled the sleeves up to her elbows and belted it at the waist with a skinny scarf. She checked herself out in the mirror.

Close enough.

Trista strolled towards the exit. Loki had told her to wait, but he hadn't told her where to wait.

* * *

No one knew the kitchen storage room better than she did. Well, there was one person…

Trista's hand wandered to the bread basket. She selected a stale roll, figuring no one would miss it.

"Trista?"

She jumped and turned around, the roll flying out of her hands and hitting her former coworker in the face.

"Sorry, Sam!" she said, wincing as she watched him flinch. The roll dropped to the floor.

Sam bent down to pick up the roll, handing it back to her. "You're not stealing, are you?"

Trista tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's for a good cause?"

Sam smiled. Trista had never seen him look at her like that before. Or maybe she hadn't really been looking.

"We've really missed you. Kitchen hasn't been the same since."

Trista tilted her head and smiled. She felt a pang of guilt and placed the roll back in the basket. "I've missed you guys too."

"Really? Because, actually…" He looked down. "Nevermind."

Trista raised her eyebrows encouragingly.

Sam peered at her. "Now that you don't work here anymore, I guess I should just tell you." He took a tentative step towards her. "I've missed you. A lot."

Trista's mouth relaxed, almost into a frown.

Sam's face turned pink. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Trista waved her hand. "When's your break? Let's sit down somewhere."

Sam turned his back towards her, heading for the door. Trista darted her hand back into the bread basket and pocketed the roll.

His hand flew to the doorknob a little too eagerly; he held the door open for Trista. "After you."

Trista couldn't help but smile at him. He met her gaze. They held each other's eyes like that until Sam stepped through the doorway after her, shutting it behind him.

At the exact time the door shut, a glimmer of gold and emerald appeared before them.

Loki grinned at the two pairs of wide eyes staring up at him. "You've disobeyed me yet again, servant girl." He grabbed Trista by her upper arm and yanked her towards him. He plucked a large wooden spoon off the counter and wielded it behind her back. The spoon came down hard on Trista's ass through the silk shirt. He shoved her against the counter; she gripped the edge as he pulled up the bottom hem of her makeshift shirtdress. He spanked her again, hard enough to make her yelp.

Sam's pupils widened at the sight of Trista's bare flesh. Then he squeezed his eyes shut. He gulped, willing himself to stay silent. He heard Loki spank Trista harder, faster now. Trista was squealing. Sam spoke up. "Stop. Your Majesty, stop."

Loki cast a glance over at the shorter man. "Because you can't stand to see her in pain?" He spanked her again. His voice flowed as hot and slow as lava. "Or because you can?"

Sam opened his eyes now, fixing his gaze determinedly on Loki instead of Trista's reddened backside. "I think she deserves better."

The smirk dropped from Loki's face.

Trista twisted her neck to look at Sam. She'd always known him as a quiet young man, respectful of authority. This was uncharacteristic of him.

Sam's voice wavered. "If I may speak candidly, Your Grace. I despise the way you treat women. As if they're…"

Loki's mouth curled upwards. "Sluts?"

Sam's mouth hardened at the word.

Loki cocked his head, sizing up Sam for a moment. He realized Trista was doing the same, so he gave her ass another smack to snap her out of it. Then he made eye contact with Sam. "You say she deserves better, but what is that exactly? Your feeble admiration? If she needed your love, she would have gone to bed with you years ago. My servant girl does not need love from a mewling quim. She needs discipline from a god." His teeth were bared now. "As do you."

Sam's nostrils flared. "This is tyranny."

Trista snuck another look at Sam. She couldn't believe his balls. She should have let Sam watch her get spanked years ago.

Loki dropped the spoon to the floor. In an instant, his scepter was in his right hand. "You know nothing of tyranny, fool." He jabbed the rounded edge of the scepter into Sam's throat, pinning him against the wall and cutting off his air supply. Sam's eyes bulged and he sputtered. His hands flew to the scepter, trying to push it away from him.

"Hey!" Trista's hands flew to Loki's forearms. Using all her weight, she tried to get him to lower the scepter. Loki swung the scepter at her, striking her in the stomach and knocking the wind out of her. She fell to the floor, gasping, clutching her midsection.

"Stay." A double of Loki appeared behind her. It pushed her to the ground and secured her arms behind her.

In the moment Loki had taken to remove his scepter, Sam regained his breath. He shot over to the counter and grabbed a fillet knife off the cutting board. He charged at Loki and thrust the knife forward.

Loki darted to the side, the knife catching on his sleeve and ripping the fabric. He swung his scepter and hit Sam's wrist. The knife went flying across the room. Sam cried out.

Trista struggled against the double's iron grip. "Stop!"

Green eyes surveyed her. Loki dropped his scepter to the ground. He murmured, "I've made a terrible mistake."

Sam was panting, eyes wild. He bolted across the kitchen to the exit.

Just as he reached the door, Loki apparated in front of him, blocking his escape. "I should kill you with my bare hands instead."

He pushed Sam down on the floor, his thumbs pressing into Sam's windpipe. He pinned down Sam's legs with his own. Sam's hands flew up and wrapped themselves around Loki's neck.

Trista howled for Loki to stop, tears streaming down her cheeks. The double hissed and put its foot on her back, pushing her further down.

Sam's grip was weakening slowly. Loki pushed his entire weight down.

The double's mouth pressed against Trista's ear. "Wave good-bye." It vanished. Free from its grasp, Trista shot up and ran over to Sam.

Sam's hands were beginning to sink down from Loki's neck. Loki grinned, his teeth gleaming.

Trista drew her foot back and delivered a swift kick to Loki's face. He cried out, clutching his nose and falling back off of Sam.

Trista fell to her knees. She shook Sam's shoulders and slapped his face. Her tears fell into his mouth.

His glass eyes stared up at her, unfocused, unblinking.

Loki wiped the blood away from his nose. "Do not mourn the death of a coward."

Trista let go of Sam, his shoulders falling back limp against the floor. "You are the coward, using magic!"

"You think me weak because of my abilities?" Loki was standing in front of Trista now. He grasped her jaw with one hand. "You have yet to learn what true strength is. What it feels like to quiver beneath the foot of the beast that could crush you." He let go of her jaw, his fingernails leaving red crescents behind. With one arm under her back and one under her knees, he hoisted her up. He brought her face against his own and kissed her, dominating her lips. "You are mine." His teeth bit her lower lip.

Trista thrashed in his arms, but his grip was too powerful. Her eyelids squeezed shut, a dam through which she wept. "You fucking monster!" She felt dizzy, as if she was falling.

When the sensation stopped, she opened her eyes. Loki had transported them to his bedchambers. He threw her on his bed. Trista bounced slightly before he pounced on top of her. With one hand, he held her wrists fast against the mattress above her head. The bottom of her shirtdress had ridden up around her waist; with his other hand he teased her center, the tips of his fingers moving unpredictably. Trista bit her lip, stifling a moan.

Loki snickered. "Your body betrays you. You are wetter than the evening you first surrendered to me. And you will surrender to my power again. You always will." He grazed his chest against Trista's breasts. The caress of cool silk hardened her nipples. Loki felt her thigh muscles tense around his hand.

The hardened expression in her eyes contrasted with the softness of her body. "You have power over me because I give it to you. It is a gift. And you repay me by killing a good man? Is Your Greatness so scared that someone else could steal me away?"

Loki growled. He removed his hands from her wrists and center. He ripped open her shirtdress, tugging it off her body so forcefully it almost dislocated her shoulders. He flipped her onto her stomach. He held out his palm, conjuring a green and gold paddle. "I. Fear. Nothing." He emphasized each of his words with a smack of the paddle against her ass.

Trista moaned but kept her lips pressed together.

Loki rubbed the paddle against the back of her thighs. "You trust me with your life, yet you do not trust me with your emotions?" He turned the paddle around so that the end of its rounded handle was directed at her core. "I want to see how you really feel. Let me hear it."

Trista sat up, turned around. She pressed her hands to his shoulders, trying to push him down on the mattress. "No. I know my emotions, and I think you know yours as well. But the difference between you and me is that I'm not afraid to surrender to them."

"Enough!" Loki clamped his hand over her mouth and pushed her down, the weight of his body pressing down on her. With his other hand he wrapped her legs around his waist.

Trista reached down and untied the fly of his pants. The length of his organ sprung into her hands. She squeezed him, eliciting a groan from his throat. He closed his eyes and loosened his grip on her mouth. She lifted her head and pressed her mouth against his ear. "I may be your slave, but I have power over you too."

Loki let out a sharp breath. Before Trista could wonder if it was a laugh or a scoff, he thrust into her. He was incredibly thick; he filled her so quickly, her jaw dropped and she screamed. He pounded himself into her, grabbing fistfuls of her dark hair and pulling. Trista winced; she knew he was trying to destroy her.

But he could never rip her open the way he wanted to. She had already done that to herself, the moment she'd first seen him and wanted him so desperately.

His black hair hung over her, wild from his effort. She brought her small hand to his temple and tamed a lock, his hair softer than it looked. She reached her other hand up and held his face gently.

Loki had been staring at her breasts. His gaze lifted; he allowed Trista to capture him with her eyes. He searched them for fear or fury. He panted, slamming himself inside her, trying to elicit what he wanted to see. What he thought he wanted to see.

It wasn't working. He shut his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at her anymore.

Trista felt him slow down, his organ stroking her more gently now. She brushed her thumbs over his eyelids. His body felt like it was handing control over to her, but she wanted to see in his eyes if that was true.

With his slow strokes, he rubbed his pelvis against her most sensitive spot. Loki listened to her sweet voice turn into powdered sugar all over again. He pressed his face into her hair, trying to bury his emotions. _This woman is killing me._

Trista wrapped her arms around his back, encompassing him. She raked her nails down his back and nearly shattered his eardrums. Her core began to spasm.

Loki pulled out, not allowing her to finish. He flipped her over on her hands and knees and entered her again. In this position, he knew he had control; he could distance himself from those soft eyes that tempted him, that promised so much to him.

He resumed his ferocity, pumping, drenching himself with her desire. He gathered her hair into a ponytail and tugged on it, drawing her head back. "You belong to me. I am your king, and I will always own you."

Trista screamed. Having been denied relief the first time, her core spasmed even harder this time.

Loki relinquished the only thing he would ever allow Trista to take from him. When he finished, he watched his wet heat drip out of her. This woman thought she could contain him, but he knew she was wrong. No one would ever be able to hold him without breaking.

He propped the pillows against the headboard and lay down. Trista rose and headed to his bathroom. He watched her hips sway as she walked, until she stopped in her tracks.

"Do you hear that?"

Loki blinked lazily, like a cat, too spent to bother with a real answer.

Then he heard it. The tiny squeaking noise again.

Trista walked over to her shirtdress and reached her hand inside the pocket, from which she produced the stale roll. Loki laughed. "You are a fool to waste your kindness on that pathetic creature."

She tiptoed towards the mouse, which was grooming its face just outside its hole in the wall. "I think all creatures are deserving of kindness." She held her breath as she got closer. The mouse began to sniff the air now. She crouched down, mere feet away.

The mouse darted back inside its hole.

Trista's face fell, which only made Loki laugh again. She ripped the roll into smaller pieces and placed them just outside the hole. She wandered back to the bed and sat down beside Loki.

The mouse's nose emerged. It sank its teeth into Trista's offering. The mouse retreated back into the darkness along with the morsel of food.

Loki sighed. "It'll keep coming back for more. You realize this."

Trista turned to him. He was scowling, his eyes downcast. She leaned forward, supporting her weight with her left hand and reaching for his face with her right hand. She cupped his jaw and gently tilted his head up. When he looked at her, she smiled. "I'm okay with that."

The lines between Loki's eyebrows disappeared, his expression softening. When Trista rested her forehead against his, he closed his eyes and let her kiss him.


	6. The Wrong Way and the Best Way

**TRIGGER WARNING (just in case): Sexual assault and violence.**

Made to be Ruled

_Chapter VI: The Wrong Way and the Best Way_

Trista wasn't sure how wise it was to be on the opposite side of the door. She took care to close the massive door to Loki's bedchambers at a glacial pace, so as not to wake her prince. He would have never let her leave if he was awake.

What he didn't know couldn't hurt him, she figured. And it certainly couldn't hurt her, right? She allowed that thought to skip across the surface of her mind and then ignored it, padding silently down the castle corridor. She needed her freedom but, more importantly, she needed to pay her respects.

It had only been a week since Loki had killed her former coworker, Sam. The true identity of Sam's murderer remained a mystery to the masses – Loki's silvertongue had made sure of that. His crime did not seem to bother him in the slightest. Trista, on the other hand, had been plagued with guilt over keeping her knowledge of Loki's crime a secret. She felt torn between the instinct for self-preservation, not wanting to speak up and risk being killed by Loki, and her instinct for compassion, wanting to reach out to Sam's family and atone.

The guilt was too much for her. Today, the knots in her gut forced her out of the castle, towards the peasants' land of the kingdom.

Trista knew Sam's family didn't have two coins to rub together, much less enough money for a proper funeral. She had heard, though, that a small service was scheduled to take place today. She hadn't left the castle in years; she hoped her memory of the town was strong enough to weave her through the labyrinth of the streets. At first, Trista had worried that she might look out of place in town. She was wearing Loki's clothes again – a pair of his cotton pants, rolled up at the ankle to account for her height (or lack thereof), and a soft button-up shirt, the plainest she could find. Loki refused to acquire clothing specifically for Trista, stating that since she had no reason to leave his bedchambers, she had no need for clothing. But now, as Trista looked at the people in town, she was surprised to see her loose clothing fit right in.

A crowd of people, all dressed in black, were walking together, heads bowed. She scanned their faces from afar; she'd seen Sam's parents only once, but she would know them if she saw them. She decided to follow the group of people, assuming they were mourners headed to the funeral. She made sure to keep her distance, though; she hadn't been formally invited to the service and she didn't want to draw attention to herself.

The afternoon sun was reticent; the cloud cover made it seem like it was much later in the day. Trista crossed her arms in front of her chest and rubbed her arms, half wishing she was snuggled with Loki under his warm sheets. Under his warm body…

Trista licked her lips, which had begun to dry out from the slight chill in the air. _Focus. Remember why you're here. _She felt another knot form in her stomach.

"You look like you could use some warmer clothes."

Trista felt a heavy coat envelop her shoulders. She turned to her side to see a man, dressed in black, who had given her his warm coat and was now offering a smile to match. She blinked. "But won't you be cold now?"

He gave his head a quick shake. Trista frowned, doubting him. His clothes were threadbare and the sole of one of his shoes was coming loose, making a slapping sound on the ground as he walked. Despite the condition of his clothes, Trista noticed the skin of his face looked clean, his reddish-blonde hair neatly combed back and tucked behind his ears. There was no mistaking the pride in the way he held his head. But the expression in his eyes clearly indicated that he was part of the funeral procession.

Trista held out her hand. "Thank you. I'm Trista."

His calloused palm scratched Trista's as he shook her hand. Without looking at her, he asked, "You live in the castle?"

Trista's eyes locked on his face, her surprise prompting her to search him for an answer. "Yes. How did you know?"

"Me and Sam had been friends since we were kids. He told me about you, talked about you like you were made of gold."

Another knot formed in Trista's stomach. She looked down at the ground, pulling the coat closer around her body.

The man continued, "The last time I saw him, he told me you left the kitchen to be Loki's bitch."

Trista stopped walking. She and the man had been ambling along; the funeral procession was well ahead of them. "He would never use that word."

"No. But I would." The man took a step and stood directly in front of her. "So, Loki's bitch, just how big is his cock?"

Trista's eyebrows knit together. Shock distorted the shape of her mouth. She shrugged off the coat, letting it fall sharply to the dirt ground. She began to turn away.

The man grabbed her shoulder and pushed her into an alleyway between two stone buildings. Trista winced as her back cracked against the stone wall. She felt something warm press into her hand. The man's breath was in her face; she could see up his flared nostrils. "Is it as big as this?"

He clamped his rough hand over her mouth. Trista bit down into his flesh, tasting metal. The man withdrew his hand and Trista screamed. She tried to rip herself out of the man's grasp. The seam of her shirt tore with the effort. She managed to wiggle part of herself away.

The man backhanded her across the face, making her dizzy. "You think we don't know who did it? Those royal bastards must think we're stupid, trying to cover it up like this, but we know. But nobody wants to stick their neck out and risk getting their head chopped off. Not you. Not even me. But I'm not sucking off the murderer, am I, Trista?" His voice was acid, spurting from his mouth and burning her skin. "How do you sleep at night with blood on your hands and come on your face?"

Tears sluiced down Trista face. "Just let me go."

"Let's see if you're as good as Sam thought you'd be." His hands were down her pants, his fingers also leaking acid. "No underclothes. I guess Loki likes easy access to his whores."

Her body was motionless, as if her spirit had deserted her. Her eyes were squeezed shut.

Trista heard something hard smack against the back of the man's head. He cried out and staggered into her.

She screamed. She opened her eyes and realized blood was seeping through his light hair. And then her heart stopped. Standing behind the man, was her prince.

Loki dragged the man to his feet by his collar, lifting him off the ground. "I will kill you in the most agonizing way possible, then bring you back from Hel and kill you all over again until you learn: never lay your hands on what is mine."

The man's head was reeling. His voice came out in gasps. "Gonna kill me, just like you killed Sam, you royal prick?"

"No." Loki smirked. The hand that held the man up in the air began to turn blue. Trista's eyes widened as she watched the color spread up his arm and over his entire body. His eyes glowed red. Loki slammed the man against the stone wall. "This will be different."

Trista stared at his eyes. She had heard of the Jotun, but had never seen one in person. She watched Loki use his free hand to conjure needle-sharp icicles and pierce the man's wrists, crucifying him against the wall.

The man's screams pierced the air as sharply as the icicles pierced his flesh. His face shone with tears and sweat. Trista's heart was racing but she remained silent, watching the blood and pride drain from the man's face.

Loki kicked the man in the knees, smashing his kneecaps and eliciting more wails from his victim. The man was slouching over now, hanging by his wrists. Loki growled. "I am a god, you filthy peasant. In the end, you will always kneel. So simple. But you had to learn it the hard way."

The man whimpered, too weak now to vocalize his true agony.

Loki snickered. His red eyes rotated and fixed on Trista. "You wonder how your Master can kill with ease? I invite you to find out for yourself." He took a step back and made a small gesture, prompting Trista to approach.

Her hands were shaking. She stared at the man's broken knees and felt like she was going to vomit. Then she turned to Loki, her eyes like two lost sheep, begging for direction.

Loki felt his shoulders curl inwards involuntarily. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to put his hands all over her. _Later._ What his red eyes did not confess was that the man was not his true target today. No, today he was going to conquer Trista, his sweet girl who left breadcrumbs for mice. He would teach her what it felt like to kill, to wield the ultimate power. _So she will understand me._

He shook his head, pushing the thought out of his mind. _No._ _So her goodness will be corrupted forever._

Loki bared his teeth in a slow smile, the whiteness contrasting with his blue skin, his red eyes. Trista was so struck by his foreign appearance that it seemed to put a spell on her. She tentatively reached a hand forward, down into the pants pocket of the man pinned against the wall.

Loki laughed. "There is nothing of virtue down there."

Her fingers brushed against what felt like a small slip of paper. She pulled it out, curious. It was a picture of a little girl, the paper softened with sebum, the corners eroded. Her head bowed, she looked up at the man. "She looks like you." She flipped the picture over and read aloud the writing on the back. "Abigail, 4 years."

Loki's lower eyelids rose as he squinted slightly. The picture did not interest him in the slightest. What intrigued him was that the picture interested Trista.

"How would you feel if someone did to her what you did to me?" Trista asked the man. His chin was slumped against his chest, which was wet with sweat and flecks of blood. Trista rotated the picture so it was upside down and pressed it against his chest. The moisture held the thin paper in place. From his point of view, he could see the image of his daughter looking up at him. She let her gaze fall to the blood coagulating on the dirt beneath him. Then she turned and walked out of the alleyway.

Loki glanced at the man, conjuring an icicle and impaling the man's jugular. Finally, the peasant's ragged breathing came to a halt.

Loki's long legs allowed him to catch up with Trista, his Jotun form melting away. Despite her brisk pace, he only had to take one step for every two of hers. "You're coming with me."

"I got myself here, I can get myself back."

Loki frowned. He had meant for her to taste power, not independence.

Her arms were swinging at her sides in attempt to look more confident than she really felt. Loki slipped his hand into hers, the back of his hand facing forwards, forcing her hand into the more submissive of the two positions. Trista blinked; Loki had never held her hand before.

He looked down at her and stepped closer, eclipsing her shoulder with his arm. "You need my protection."

Trista squeezed his hand, noting that he had intertwined their fingers so that his thumb was on top. Now that she had calmed down a little, she felt hot tears begin to form in her eyes. "No, I'm fine."

"Trista." He had never used her name before. He turned and enveloped her in his arms. Exhausted, she opened herself to him. He picked her up, one arm supporting her back and another under her knees. As he transported them back to his bedchambers, he noticed the moisture in her eyes. Although his eyes were dry, he wondered why Trista's tears burned his own cheeks.

* * *

She had shed her layers and was now naked in his bathtub. Loki sat on the edge of the tub and handed her a large, steaming mug. The smell of cocoa instantly soothed Trista. She accepted the mug, curling her fingers around it. "Thank you. For saving me."

"If anyone's going to kill you, it'll be me."

Trista tried to hide her smile behind her mug, taking a sip.

Loki bristled at her expression. His tone was quiet but stern. "Do not make the mistake of thinking I've gone soft." He stripped off his shirt, the fabric hitting the floor and catching Trista's attention. He unbuckled his belt. His pants fell to the floor and he stepped out of them. His skin was bare underneath. "You'll see I'm just as hard as ever."

Trista pressed her thighs together. She wanted him, but she'd be damned if she made the first move.

Loki bent down, his face hovering in front of her own. Trista straightened her back, inviting him with her chest. He reached down and took the mug from her. He set it on the edge of the tub. Then he brought both his hands to either side of her face, cupping her jaw. Trista tipped her chin up and closed her eyes. He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs.

Trista heard a splash as he sat down in the water in front of her. His hands flew to her ass, gripping her firmly and placing her on his lap. Then he grasped her small feet and secured them behind his back.

Trista winced. Loki's eyebrows darted up in response. She peered at him from under her lashes. "I think I got blisters from walking all the way to town." She bit her lip. "Would you be able to heal them for me, maybe?"

Loki smirked. He liked when she asked for things, because it gave him the satisfaction of denying her. "So now you are in favour of my magical abilities? You earned these blisters and you shall keep them until they heal naturally. Consider it a reminder to never stray from me again."

She straightened her back. Sitting on his lap, she was just high enough to be able to peer down at him slightly. "I don't know if I can promise you that."

"Oh, but you will." He slipped his hand around and under her ass, his fingers moving between her legs.

Trista became rigid in his arms. Her chest caved in as she slouched away from him.

Loki removed his hand from between her legs. He captured a lock of her hair between his thumb and index finger, smoothing it. His tone softened. "Where did he touch you?"

Her gaze fluttered away from him. He followed the laser-like focus of her pupils to a spot on her inner left thigh.

Loki unwrapped her legs from his waist. He submerged his head, his hair floating ethereally in the water and concealing his face. His fingernails dug into either side of her thigh, holding it in place. Then he opened his mouth against it, water rushing in between his lips. He buried his teeth in her flesh. His jaws clamped down on her, as if he was really trying to take a bite out of her.

Trista gasped. It was painful, but she needed it.

Red liquid began to float up, twining with Loki's black hair. A single tear stung Trista's eye. She was just about to ask him to stop, when he brought his head out of the water. His hair was plastered smoothly down his face. Trista lifted his hair and brushed it back with her fingers. There were tiny droplets of water on his eyelashes.

She didn't have to look at her thigh. She knew there was a vicious red circle where his teeth had claimed her. She tucked his hair behind his ears. "I hope it scars."

"It will." He kissed her, and she tasted her own blood.

She pushed her fingers though his wet hair, keeping his face close to hers. She re-wrapped her legs around his waist. She pushed her center against his pelvis, leaning back slightly. His hands were flat against her back, supporting her. He brought his lips to her breast, the tip of his tongue escaping to tease her nipple. She moaned and took hold of his hand, guiding it to her other breast. Loki pinched her nipple for only a moment before removing both his hand and his lips.

"Remember your place, servant girl. I'll decide what you get and when to give it to you." He lifted her ass up, scooting himself out from under her. He stood up, his white skin glistening with water and bath oils, his hair dripping onto his shoulders. Trista's gaze slipped down his sleek form. She watched him step out of the tub and grab an enormous black bath sheet from a shelf. She thought he was going to dry himself off, until he held the sheet open.

"Stand up."

She complied, facing him.

"Turn around."

After she did so, he brought the sheet to her back. He stood behind her and bent his head down to suck the water droplets from her shoulders. When he'd had his fill, he kissed her earlobe. He slowly wrapped her body in the soft bath sheet, the tip of his tongue tracing her ear. His long arms ensconced her, holding her tightly enough to feel her stomach move with her deepening breaths. He squeezed her body against his and lifted her out of the tub.

The bath sheet was sandwiched between them so tightly, Trista wondered if they were squeezing the moisture out of it. Once she was standing on the floor, she reached a hand out to grab another bath sheet for Loki.

"I'd rather use this one." He whipped the bath sheet off of Trista's body, surprising her. Loki smirked, then began towelling his hair, blocking his face from view with the sheet.

Knowing he couldn't see her, she felt a lightning bolt of boldness. His erection absolutely refused to quit. She watched the last few drops of water drip off his length. Suddenly, she was thirsty. And she knew exactly what she needed to drink.

Before she knew what she was doing, she knelt before him. Her mouth was on his pelvis, her tongue greedy. She put her hands on his ass and pushed him against her.

Loki flung the towel away from him. It hit the wall and slid to the floor. He buried his hands in her hair. "You truly are disobedient. Have I been too soft in punishing you, servant girl?"

"Yes." Trista licked his tip, her tongue hot. "I need it -"

His hands flew to her neck, choking her. She rose to her feet. Loki's still wet body pressed against her, the heat between them evaporating any remaining moisture. "I'll tell you what you need. You need to let me rule you." With his powerful arms, he flung her over his shoulder.

Trista squealed, her world turned upside down as he carried her into the bedroom. She felt her head rush as he threw her on the bed, expertly angling her so her head hit the pillow. He jumped on top of her and then sat between her legs. He magicked cuffs around her wrists and ankles, binding her with chains to the four posts of his bed. "Is this not simpler?" His fingers teased her center.

Trista arched her neck on the pillow, releasing a moan.

Loki felt more blood fill his organ, if that was even possible at this point. "If your voice wasn't so delicious, I'd gag you."

Their eyes connected at the same time.

His hand was still between her legs; she was dripping. He waved his fingers in the air. A swatch of silk gently tied itself around the back of her head and between her teeth. Her lips were spread open in a smile. He smirked. "All the more reason for you to scream louder." He lowered his face between her legs, his tongue already out to taste her.

She was a wild animal. Despite the best restraints he'd conjured, she managed to find enough give in the chains to press her pelvis against his face. Her body demanded him.

Her soft skin was so tempting. It would be all too easy to lose himself inside her. Although she was the one in chains, Loki held himself in even tighter constraints. His tongue circled her most sensitive area, his fingers working between her legs as well. The summation of sensations rippled through her, undoing her.

He waited until she was gushing, pulsing, completely feral. And then he pulled his mouth away.

She was whimpering, her demands muffled by the silk gag.

Like a panther, he prowled up her body until his face was over hers. "Admit it. You love it when I'm bad." He untied the gag, dragging it down her body, making her shiver. His hand hovered over one of her handcuffs. "Are you ready to submit to me now, my slave?"

Trista nodded. The cuffs and chains disappeared. She remained still.

"Very good." Loki stroked her hair. He sat back on his ankles. He pointed to the floor beside the bed. "Kneel."

Trista knelt facing the bed. Loki sat in front of her with his legs over the edge, his feet on the floor. She was looking up at him, a kitten waiting for her dish of cream.

Loki's organ pointed directly at the object of his desire. "Handle me, my pet."

She curled her fingers around him. His length required both her hands, and then some.

For a woman with such small hands, her grip was incredible. Loki's eyelids lowered. He maintained eye contact with her, waiting to see when her eyes would ask for more direction.

Trista hoped she appeared calm. She desperately wanted to see him orgasm, to feel him release himself within her and know that it was entirely her doing.

Loki fisted his hands in her hair. He meant to push her face into him, but with the slightest touch to the back of her head she dove forward, her mouth ready for him.

She would have swallowed his length entirely, if she could, just so she could keep it at the pit of her stomach and know she had a part of him inside her, always. Of course, his organ remained firmly attached to the rest of his body. Her lips pulled on him, rubbing against him, giving her mouth a flushed rose tone. With one hand, she cupped his bulges underneath.

Loki's groans became erratic. He called her name; Trista reveled in the pleasure of hearing those two syllables, simply because they were so much rarer than his usual ways of addressing her. She couldn't take her eyes off his face. She pleasured him until he became incoherent, but his face said everything, it gave him away.

Trista had anticipated the heat between her legs, but this time with Loki she felt an equal pressure within her chest. Her tongue swirled around him, needing a release just as much as he did.

Yes, she loved it when he was bad. But a part of her wondered how much could she love him if he let himself be good? She pleasured him fiercely, as if the answer to her riddle was pent up inside him.

Loki cursed loudly. His thighs tensed. "Yes," he repeated like a madman, pushed off the edge and cursing as he fell into the abyss.

His face suggested that he had left her, momentarily. Not literally – physically, he was inside her, flowing through her. The heat he had released was now at the pit of her stomach, right where she needed him, filling the void that he himself had created within her. Trista kept her lips around him, waiting until he came back.

After about a minute, his eyes opened, and Trista finally understood why people say the eyes are windows to the soul. She slowly released him from her mouth. She got up from her knees and sat beside him, tucking her face in the crook of his neck.

Loki waited till he regained his breath before speaking. "You will not leave here again. Since I cannot trust you to obey my orders, I've placed an enchantment on my bedchamber."

Trista snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes demanding.

He simply smirked in response.

She leapt up to try the door herself, not wanting to believe what he'd told her. He grabbed her hand before she could walk away and pulled her back on the bed. "And now I know you don't trust me, otherwise you wouldn't feel the need to test my words." He pushed her down against the soft silk sheets. His green eyes consumed her; she succumbed, as he knew she would. "It appears as though we both have issues to work out. You especially, servant girl."

His lips crushed into hers. Trista wove her fingers through his soft hair and melted under the weight of his body. She told herself she would argue with him in the morning.


	7. Friends with the Monster

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! School is kicking my ass, so I had to kick its ass back.**

**I don't know if you can tell by the title, but I listened to Monster by Eminem ft. Rihanna while writing a lot of this chapter. I am super pumped for you to read it!**

******Warning: a bit of female/female action up ahead.**

Made to be Ruled

_Chapter VII: Friends with the Monster_

"You've missed a section." Loki said to the curvy young woman scrubbing the floor outside his bedchambers.

The girl looked up, her eyes the color of black tulips. Ah, now he remembered who she was. "Where, sir?"

Loki opened his hand over the floor and conjured a pool of melted chocolate ice cream just beside his feet. "Here." He strolled down the hallway, his cape billowing out behind him.

* * *

Loki had slammed the door loud enough to wake Trista. She sat up in bed.

He had left her, but at least he had left her with breakfast. The table in his room was full of fruit, croissants, and tea.

Trista heard the sound of bristles scratching against the stone floor in the hallway. She walked over to the door and opened it to find a young woman on her hands and knees, a bucket of soapy water beside her and a brown puddle in front of her. Trista stared at the puddle. "That's not...?"

The girl glared up at Trista. The sweat on her forehead gleamed. Her eyes were surprisingly striking, catching Trista off guard. "Ice cream. Remind me to thank His Royal Highness."

Trista bit her lip. "Hang on." She turned, headed towards the bathroom.

"Does it look like I'm going anywhere?"

Trista returned from the bathroom with one of Loki's bath sheets. She threw it on top of the puddle. "Now the joke's on him." Trista smiled and crouched down so she was eye level with the girl. "I'll take care of this. There's breakfast inside, if you're hungry."

The girl peered inside the room. "Is there enough food?"

"I already ate," Trista said quickly, averting her gaze. She scooted to the side to allow the girl to enter the room. Loki had forbidden her from leaving his chambers, but he hadn't said anything about letting other people in. Trista mopped up the ice cream and soapy water and then bundled the stained towel into a ball. Part of her wondered if Loki's mischievous nature was rubbing off on her. The other part knew that she just needed someone to talk to. Loki was many things to Trista, but he wasn't a friend. Not the kind her mother would approve of, anyway.

"Are you sure?" The girl was standing by the table, her hand hovering over a croissant.

Trista stood up and kicked the door shut, holding the balled-up towel away from her body. Trista couldn't remember the last time someone had asked for her permission. The authority suited Trista much like Loki's cape; fun to try on, but she would never own it. She nodded, walking towards the bathroom. "So what's your name?" she asked, chucking the towel into the bathtub.

The girl screamed.

Trista spun around to face her. "What?"

The girl had her index finger outstretched, pointing at something on the ground. The other hand was at her mouth. Trista followed the line of her pointer finger and saw a mouse sitting outside its hole in the wall. "Oh, that's my little guy," Trista laughed, walking over to the table and standing beside the girl.

"Disgusting." The girl cringed. As soon as the word left her mouth, the mouse scurried over towards them. "It's coming over here!" the girl squealed, grabbing onto Trista.

In an instinctual effort to comfort her, Trista put her hand on the girl's waist. The girl was taller, curvier than her. Trista suddenly felt awkward and put her hand on the girl's shoulder instead. "It's okay. He's tame… -ish."

The mouse was at their feet now. Trista bent down and carefully reached out her hand to pet the creature. Its fur was warm and she could feel its heart vibrating under its back. She smiled; this was the first time the mouse hadn't fled from her.

"You're crazy. I'm leaving." The girl flounced towards the door. Then she stopped. "Wait." She turned around and plucked a banana off the table. "Now I'm leaving."

Trista stood up, her shoulders sagging. With every step the girl took, Trista felt the loneliness burrow further down into her stomach. "It was nice to meet you." She tried to sound cheerful, but her voice came out deflated.

The girl whipped around again. "The crazy has really rubbed off on you, huh? I'd expect this from Loki, and maybe even Thor, but -"

"You've met Thor?" Usually, servants never got the chance to directly interact with members of the royal family unless they were extremely lucky. Or extremely unlucky.

The girl ripped the peel off the banana. "I've done more than meet him." She shoved the banana into her mouth, causing her left cheek to bulge out.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" the girl said, surprisingly articulate while chewing. "The princes take sex slaves. Or did you think you and Loki were just friends with benefits?"

"I wouldn't say Loki and I are friends. That's why I invited you in. I'm looking for a friend."

The girl's brow unfurrowed. She swallowed the chunk of banana and smiled. "Is that why you're cozying up to that mouse?"

Trista laughed, looking down. The mouse had scurried away. "I was making such good progress until you insulted him."

"I'm kind of a bitch." The girl winked. "By the way, I've been wondering why Loki's room hasn't been the brothel it usually is. Now I know he's got his hands full with you. You're really pretty."

Trista rolled her eyes. "Right. You are so full of shit." The swear word left her mouth before Trista knew what she was saying. She usually never swore, but there was something about this girl that lowered her inhibitions.

"Usually, yeah. You said you needed a friend, why don't you come to the tavern with me tonight at eight? Unless your Master won't let you." The girl crossed her arms and turned up one side of her mouth.

Trista remembered the enchantment Loki had placed on his room. Her face fell. "Actually…"

The smirk slowly faded from the girl's face. She started to turn towards the door.

Trista felt the acid accumulate in her stomach. She was hungry, not for breakfast, but for true intimacy. The kind you could achieve with your clothes on. She straightened her back. _If Loki can enchant his chambers, he can disenchant them just as easily. _"I'll be there. What did you say your name was?"

A deep voice came from the bed. "Sloane."

The girl and Trista both whipped their heads to look at the bed, upon which Loki was reclining. His hands were behind his head. He grinned at Trista. "Don't look at me like that, darling. I know you missed me."

Trista felt her heart vibrate almost as quickly as the mouse's heart had. She hated to admit it, but she had missed him - even after only fifteen minutes. She took a deep breath in, trying to appear calm in front of her new friend. "Not really. I've been -"

In a flash, Loki was standing beside her, his body pressing against her smaller one. His lips brushed against her ear, his voice low. "I know exactly what you've been up to." He looked down her shirt and wrapped his arms around her waist. Then he lifted his gaze and made eye contact with Sloane. "I would advise you to leave, unless you want to hear screams that will give you nightmares for weeks." He delivered a swift bite to Trista's neck, smirking when she shrieked in response.

"On top of the nightmares I already have?" Sloane murmured.

The tone of her voice triggered Trista's sympathy. She looked at Sloane with doe eyes.

Loki scowled at Trista's reaction. He opened his palm and spanked Trista's ass. "I thought you learned what happens when you try to make friends. Or do you need another lesson?"

Trista put a hand on Loki's chest and tried to push him away, while her other arm clung to his neck, pulling him in. Somehow her brain didn't hold the same power over her body as Loki held.

Sloane waved her hand. "I'm going. Nice to meet you, Trista."

Trista waited until the door closed behind her. She looked up at Loki, wrapping her other arm around his neck. "You let her off easy. I think you're getting soft."

"Do not test me." He filled his hands with her breasts through the silk of her shirt. "I don't let anyone off that easily. You invited a stranger into my chambers, without my permission. I should flog you until you scream."

"Not a stranger. How do you know her name?"

Loki pinched her nipples, twisting them ever so slightly. Trista moaned, burying her fingers in his hair. She almost didn't hear Loki's response. "She is a failed servant girl of Thor's."

Trista's eyes snapped open. "Failed?"

Loki gathered her hair into a ponytail and pulled her head back. With his other hand, he lightly stroked her throat, his thumb and fingers forming the gentlest of clamps. "I know that look in your eyes. If you think Sloane is another mouse to befriend, you are sorely mistaken. And you know what tragedies ensue when you make mistakes."

"It sounds like you're threatening me."

Loki tightened his grip on Trista's throat. "There is no need for me to threaten you, not when there are so many other, more pleasurable, methods of persuasion."

"Maybe there is a way that I can persuade you of something?" Trista gasped with what little air she had left.

Loki released her throat. He rotated his wrist, facing his palm outward, and trailed the tips of his fingers down her chest. "I'm listening."

"Lift the enchantment. Just for today."

Loki chuckled. Then he waved his hand and the door to his bedroom swung open. "Done."

Trista turned. "Thank you."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "You asked me to lift the enchantment. You didn't ask me to let you go." The force of his pull caused her to stumble sideways onto his chest. Loki caught her in his arms and held her there. "I'll never let you go, no matter how much you beg." He snapped his fingers and her clothing vanished.

"The door…" Trista pressed herself against him, conscious of the possibility of someone walking past the wide open entrance.

"What about it?" Loki held her waist and pushed her down to sit on the edge of the bed. He stood between Trista and the door, shielding her. Then he brought his hands to his shoulders and unfastened his cape. He let it cascade down behind him. Next, he slipped out of his gauntlets and vest.

"Someone could see us." Trista held her breath as she watched Loki unwrap the criss-cross of leather armor from his torso.

"You mean someone could see me doing as I please in my own chambers?" He unbuttoned his tunic and stripped it off. His chest was bare now. His pelvic bones arrowed into his leather pants, directing Trista's attention. She felt faint and realized she was still holding her breath. Loki's slender fingers hovered around his belt buckle. He finally unbuckled it and slowly snaked it out from the belt loops.

Trista's chest made tiny movements as she took shallow breaths. She felt like she'd forgotten how to breathe naturally and now had to mindfully assert control over the task. She looked up at Loki's sly smile. His eyes flickered. _He knows exactly what he's doing. _She took a deep breath. She would have to control herself if she really wanted power to persuade him.

"You are far too tame today." Loki cracked the belt in the air, making Trista flinch. She scolded herself for the instinctual reaction. "Shall I whip you into shape?"

Trista crossed her legs. There was no way her ass was moving. "Promise me you'll let me go tonight."

He snickered. "Is this how it works now?" He grabbed her upper arm with one hand and flipped her around. He bent her over on the bed. "I am your Master. I make the rules. Don't forget that." He whipped the belt against her back, leaving behind a long red line. The endorphins flowing through Trista's body clouded the pain. The whip came down on her back a second time. "You'll walk free when I decide, and when I do, I'll ensure your body is thoroughly marked as my possession." He whipped her in a figure-eight pattern on her ass and lower back.

Trista lifted her head. ""When'? So it's up for negotiation?"

The belt came down harder than ever on her ass. He tossed the belt on the bed, above her head. He kicked off his boots and walked over to his nightstand. He grabbed a hardcover book and sat on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. He flipped open to the first page and stared at it. Trista stood up, waiting for him to speak. He flipped to the next page, nearly ripping it with the abrupt motion. She crawled onto the bed and approached him. "My prince." She used her best honey-sweet voice, the kind kept on the top shelf and reserved just for emergencies.

A lock of hair fell in front of Loki's face as he buried his attention in the book. Trista came closer and reached her hand out to tuck it back into place. Loki grabbed her hand, his eyes catching her eyes at the same time. "Am I not enough?" His expression was unyielding, but the vulnerability in his eyes rendered her speechless.

She felt like one of his icicles had pierced her chest. She grasped at the right thing to say. Every word seemed to dissipate like vapor. She clasped his hand between both of hers and brought it to her chest, pressing his palm flat against the left side of her breastbone. "You are more than enough."

He felt the quiet rhythm of her heart in his hand. His fingernails dug into her flesh for just a moment. Then he tugged his hand away. His hand and his gaze return to the book. He bowed his head. "You only say that because your life is at stake."

Her hands sank down into her lap. "Is that what you think, Loki?"

There was something in the way she said his name. He lifted his chin up slightly and looked at her lips. He wouldn't let himself fall into her eyes.

She continued. "I'll always be honest with you, if you are always honest with me."

He watched the promise fall from her lips. His eyes smouldered with envy. "You make it sound so easy. It isn't. Not for me."

She put her hand on the open book and pushed it down into his lap, demanding more of his attention. She leaned forward, closing the gap between their faces. "I care about you, and not because I belong to you. I'd belong to you anyways, even if I'd never met you -"

He tossed the book aside, the pages fluttering as it flew to the floor. He pounced on top of her, his tongue inside her mouth, his hands in her hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close, and then reached for the fly of his pants. Loki supported his weight with his left arm as he brought his other hand to his crotch, helping Trista undo the fly. He tugged his pants down and tossed them across the room.

They were skin to skin, nothing between them. Trista locked her ankles together behind his back. Her hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down when he tried to lift his head.

Loki broke away, evoking a small whimper from Trista. The ends of his hair brushed against her cheek. Trista smoothed his hair back, the tips of her fingers disappearing between the soft strands. Her white hand in his hair looked like a dove among ravens. He trailed kisses down her neck, bringing his hand to his hair where Trista's hand lay. His fingers entwined with hers. Trista expected him to push her hand back against the sheets. Instead, he brought their hands between their chests, pressing the back of her hand against his sternum. He kissed her just below her ear and softly bit her earlobe. "I've always hated sharing," he murmured.

Trista hummed, allowing his husky voice to waft into her. The warmth of his skin radiated into her, relaxing her muscles. She felt his heart beat powerfully within him, pumping the blood to his thick organ. Trista buried her head in his neck, inhaling his warm scent.

He slowly, easily, fit himself inside her. "And I refuse to share my servant girl with anyone." As he spoke, he felt Trista become even wetter, drenching his organ. She tilted her head in the direction of his voice. He smiled, brushing his lips against her ear. He kissed her neck and brought his mouth over to her other ear. "Are you so aroused by the mere sound of my voice?"

She made eye contact with him, her lids heavy. She thrust her hips upward, taking in as much of him as she could.

"I'll take that as a yes." He bit the side of her neck. He rocked back and forth, drawing a low moan from Trista's throat. He released her neck, leaving behind a wet, red imprint of his teeth. He wanted to mark her body as his in every way he could. "I'll give you what you need, Trista, as long as you listen to me."

His fingers slipped between her legs and slowly tortured her. He always led her to orgasm as if he had nothing but time. Trista felt herself begin to unravel beneath the god, feeling that maybe time had stopped just for them.

She felt a draft swoop in. She remembered the open door. She bit her lip, trying to hold back her scream. "Shut the door, please," she whispered.

"What was that, darling? Open the windows?"

Hinges creaked as all the tall windows of his room swung open. Their green curtains billowed in the breeze.

It was too late for her to protest; she was too far in. She parted her lips and her scream broke free.

"If that is what my voice does to you, just imagine the effect your voice has on me." Loki thrust into her with increasing intensity. The muscles of his arms flexed as he kept himself anchored above her. She grabbed onto his arms. Here he was, so solid, when she felt like she was floating away.

The breeze cooled the sweat on Loki's forehead and carried Trista's screams out of the room. Loki watched his woman fall apart, suddenly aware of a hollow space within himself. It was like looking down a dark well; he had no idea how far down it went.

Trista opened her eyes. Loki was biting his lower lip so hard, she was worried he'd draw blood. She gently ran her thumbs along his jawline.

He tried to hold himself in, but her eyes…

He slipped and fell into the well. When he hit the bottom, he was damp, and there was Trista, lying underneath him. It was cold and dark at the bottom of the well. Deep in his gut, Loki felt a pang of terror.

"It's okay," Trista whispered. She kissed his flushed cheek.

His sweat clung to her breasts, creating a seal; his body was reluctant to let him peel himself away from her. But his mind knew better than his body. His mind knew that he hated that feeling in his gut. He needed to be in control, and there was only one way to maintain that control. He brushed his hair back with his hand. He sat up and leaned against the headboard.

Trista was still paralyzed.

The bed was huge; he was sitting several feet away from her on it, but he still felt too close. "Were you listening, servant girl?"

Trista opened her eyes. She lifted herself slightly, propping herself up on her elbows. "Every word."

His eyes darkened.

Trista sighed. When would he trust her? She got up and closed the bedchamber door on her way to the bathroom.

"Where are you meeting Sloane?"

"The tavern. Why?" Trista twisted her neck to look at him.

The sparkle was back in Loki's eyes. "Have fun tonight."

"Thanks." Trista felt a smile warm her face. As she stepped inside the bathroom, she realized she no longer felt the loneliness that had burrowed its way inside her earlier. She removed the towel from the bathtub, dumping it on the floor, and turned on the faucet. As the water flowed, she recalled the way Loki had looked at her as he came. Steam rose from the tub. She slipped inside, allowing the water line to rise up her body. She turned off the water and leaned back, looking around the bathroom. Her finger circled the scar Loki had left on her inner thigh. He was everywhere. She wondered, did he see her everywhere too?

Back in the bedroom, Loki was still sitting on his bed. He watched the curtains billow gently and tried to find a pattern in the way the wind blew.

He stood up and, one by one, slammed each of the windows shut. The only way to predict the wind was to cease it altogether.

He walked to the table, suddenly craving an orange. He walked past the book he had discarded earlier. It lay there on the floor, pathetic, used, its pages bent from the fall.

He selected the largest orange on the table and tore off its skin with his teeth.

He was going to need all his strength tonight.

* * *

"Trista! Hey." Sloane's face broke out in a wide smile when she saw her friend approach. The sun had just gone down. She was sitting on a stool at the bar. "You're early."

"I couldn't wait to see you."

"I guess that makes two of us." Sloane took a sip of red wine from her goblet. "That's a sexy dress." She glanced at Trista's breasts, testing her. When she'd met Trista earlier that day she thought she seemed like the kind of girl who didn't care much about appearances, in her rumpled shirtdress and messy hair. But tonight, Trista had worn a fitted black dress with a plunging neckline. Was Trista testing her also?

"Loki picked it out for me."

Sloane nodded. "He has good taste." She noticed her friend beam in response. "Want a drink? My treat."

"I'd love a drink. Perhaps in a more private place?"

Sloane's goblet froze halfway to her lips. "Yeah, of course. Did you have a spot in mind?"

"Just follow me. I'll lead the way."

Sloane placed her goblet back on the bar without taking a sip. She leaned in closer. "Trista, I have to ask. Are you…" She faced her palm upward and gestured back and forth with her pointer finger. "Into women?"

"Let's just say I'm bisexual. Now, about that drink…"

* * *

Trista wasn't sure about it before, but now she knew for sure she was lost. She thought she knew the way to the tavern, but Loki had given her contrary directions and, like the submissive she tended to be, she followed his directions rather than her own. The castle was like a city unto itself, but she figured it couldn't be too difficult for her to find the tavern. All she had to do was keep a look out for people stumbling around and slurring their words.

It had to be well past eight o'clock by now. Trista walked faster, hoping Sloane wouldn't be mad at her for being late.

"Excuse me." Trista approached a group of women. "I'm kind of lost. Would you be able to point me in the direction of the tavern?"

One of the women chuckled. "You really are lost. It's on the opposite side of the castle." She pointed down the correct corridor.

Trista's mouth fell open. She ran down the hallway. "Thank you," she called back to the woman.

Loki's little prank had momentarily derailed her, but he wouldn't spoil her night. She prayed that Sloane had found a nice glass of wine and was waiting for her.

* * *

Sloane followed her friend out of the tavern and down to a familiar corridor. She recognized the bedchamber door and balked. "Absolutely not. You've got to be joking." She dropped her friend's hand. "He could come back at any moment."

"Oh, don't worry about Loki. Besides, haven't you always wanted to do it on a prince's bed?"

Sloane turned her face away. "I'd rather not re-live the experience." Her friend stayed quiet. Sloane peered at her. "I didn't tell you the whole story about Thor."

"You don't have to."

* * *

She finally found her way. Like a moth, Trista was drawn to the warm yellow light spilling out of the door of the tavern. She'd been here once before, several years ago, with friends from the kitchen. Back then, she had a herd to follow and tell her what to order and how to order it. Tonight, she walked through the door on her own, selected a seat on her own. It wasn't as scary as she thought it'd be, all those years ago.

She sat at the bar and craned her neck, scanning the crowds of people.

The bartender came forth. "What'll you have?"

Trista hesitated. She tried to remember what her friends had ordered last time but went blank; the image of Sloane's purple eyes swam in her mind.

After several moments, another patron caught the bartender's attention and he abandoned her.

Trista slouched. Independence was an acquired taste, all right. Maybe you had to be abandoned a certain number of times to really develop a taste for it.

* * *

Sloane allowed herself to be coaxed inside Prince Loki's bedchambers. Damn, this girl better be worth it. She looked around the room. The table had been cleared, the bed had been made. She felt her friend grab hold of her hand.

"I lied to you. I don't have any wine."

Sloane stayed still, feeling a twinge of nervousness. It must have been Trista's dress. Her friend closed the gap between them and looked up at her. Slightly taken aback by Trista's assertiveness, Sloane diverted her gaze out the window for a moment. She searched the sky for the moon and then remembered: it was a new moon tonight. There was nothing to see but stars. When she returned her gaze, she saw that Trista hadn't stopped staring at her. Sloane returned her stare. "I might be rusty."

"Then let's oil the hinges."

* * *

The tavern became more and more crowded as the hour passed. Trista was nursing a vodka, wishing certain people were as transparent as her drink. Someone bumped into her shoulder, almost knocking her off her stool. She was starting to wonder if she was the transparent one. She'd never felt more invisible. She knocked back the rest of her drink, wincing as it burned her throat. It had a salty aftertaste; she had tears hiding behind her eyes. Quickly, Trista got up. She put her hand on the shoulder of the person who had bumped into her. "You can have my seat."

She didn't wait to see if the person sat down. She wove her way through the crowd, headed for the exit. She swallowed her tears, wondering if she'd get another chance with Sloane.

* * *

Sloane broke away, her lips flushed. "Half of me wondered if you were going to blow me off tonight." She felt a cool hand slip up her dress.

"What did the other half think?"

Sloane lay back on the black silk sheets. She laughed. "You mean my bottom half? Honestly, the other half of me was thinking about… exactly this." She closed her eyes and felt the hem of her dress being pulled up around her waist. Trista sure knew what she was doing. "You've done this before, right?"

"What do you think?"

Sloane opened her eyes and looked at Trista, who was sporting a sweet smile. Sloane smirked and narrowed her eyes. "You're not as innocent as you look." She watched Trista lower her head between her legs. She felt her undergarments slide down. She closed her eyes, hearing the soft sound of fabric hitting the floor.

"You have no idea, Sloane."

Sloane moaned as she felt her name vibrate against her center.

* * *

Trista's hand was just about to grasp the doorknob to Loki's bedchamber, when she heard someone moaning inside.

"Trista…"

Trista eyes widened. She froze for just a moment, recognizing Sloane's voice. She gave her head a quick shake and twisted the doorknob. Why would Sloane be in Loki's room?

She pushed open the door and immediately saw herself on Loki's bed. She stared at the replica, whose face was buried between a pair of legs. Her jaw dropped.

"Trista, you're going to make me…"

Trista realized who the legs belonged to. It was Sloane, supine on the bed, eyes squeezed shut.

The replica of Trista melted away, revealing…

Trista brought a hand to her mouth.

Sloane began to scream, writhing on the bed with her eyes still closed as Loki went down on her.

Trista marched over to the bed. "What the fuck?"

Loki lifted his face. His mouth was wet.

Trista slapped his face. She winced, her palm stinging from the impact. Loki looked unfazed. His cheek wasn't even red. Trista began to shake.

Sloane's eyes were open now, taking in what was happening. She sat up and scooted away from Loki like she'd been burned.

"Thor never did bring you to orgasm, did he?" Loki smirked at her. "You're welcome."

Sloane tugged her dress down and stumbled off of the bed. She turned her cheek to Loki, as if he didn't exist. Right now, he couldn't exist. Her brain couldn't process it. Instead, she glared at Trista. "Congratulations, you really fooled me. Fucking hilarious."

Trista shook her head. She wanted to grab Sloane's arm but, at the same time, she didn't want to touch the woman who had Loki's saliva between her legs. "I waited at the tavern. I had no idea."

"Right. The God of Mischief and his bitch." Sloane sniffled back hot tears. "Why don't you get a life?" She stumbled towards the door, blinded by tears and woozy from the orgasm.

Trista ran after her. "Let's talk. I clearly have no idea what's going on either."

"What is wrong with you? Leave me alone." Sloane screamed. She yanked the door open and ran out, slamming it in Trista's face.

Trista stood there, too stunned to cry.

Loki raised his eyebrows. "That was rude."

An electric shock rippled up Trista spine. Her face went blank. She ran her tongue over her lip for a moment before turning around to face him. "You're impenetrable."

"Impenetrable? I'm an open book." He grabbed the same book he'd been reading before; the pages were bent from being thrown on the floor. He let it fall open to a random page. "You listened to every word I spoke, and I spoke nothing but the truth."

Trista shook her head. She rubbed her eyes with her palms. "I don't know what to say."

"Say, 'yes, Master,' and sit beside me, like an obedient servant girl." He patted the spot next to him. "You're here for my satisfaction. So far you've done nothing but disobey my orders. I tell you I don't like sharing, and you run off to play with someone you just met."

"You took my form. You deceived an innocent person."

"I gave her what she wanted, while all you did was give her false hope. Not much of a friend, are you? And if you had anything other than virtuous intentions for the girl, well, then…" He shrugged. "There you go disobeying me again."

Trista crossed her arms, squeezing herself in attempt to stop shaking. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"Don't blame me. If you weren't such an enticing creature I would have never been able to lure that girl in here. You should be proud of yourself; even the _mighty Thor_ couldn't make her come."

Trista looked up, catching the resentment in his voice. "You really are an asshole."

"Darling, I'm thousands of years old. You don't live that long without collecting a few chips on your shoulder. Don't be angry with me."

"I'm not. I'm angry at myself."

Loki stood up and sauntered over to her. "I am many things to many people, but I am not your lover. I am not your friend. You don't have my heart."

Trista held up her hand, signalling him to stop. "You've already convinced me. So why are you still arguing? Who are you really trying to convince?" She turned her back to him before he could see her cry. She bowed her head. Her shoulders shrugged inwards as silent sob fought its way out.

Loki was standing directly behind her now. Just as he felt like he was climbing out of the well, he'd looked back and seen Trista's broken body, laying at the bottom. He reached his hand forward, wanting to touch her shoulder.

Trista stepped forwards before he could touch her. She clasped the doorknob and pulled it open. "Don't follow me." She slammed the door behind her.

Loki never took orders from servants, and he wasn't going to start now.

But he figured he'd give her a head start.


End file.
